Money Power Glory
by mpg66
Summary: Amelia was never quite content living an ordinary life, but when she is abducted by the charming yet unstable Jim Moriarty she wishes for nothing more than to escape. As Moriarty develops an unhealthy attachment to her, she finds herself being lured deeper into his web of crime and murder, and becomes more and more fascinated with the man in the centre.
1. Chapter 1

I pulled my jacket around me as I turned a corner into the wind, regretting my decision not to wear a coat today having been entranced by the bright but cold March sunshine. My heels clacked against the pavement and I glanced at my reflection in a shop window as I passed- my nose looked pink against my ivory skin but the wind hadn't managed to unravel my usual work up-do I had twisted my dark blonde hair into. I checked my watch; I was only 5 minutes late today.

I clicked my tongue as I waited for the lift to reach the 5th floor, and rushed out as the doors opened, walking quickly to the high, ornate reception in front of a large office with glass walls. I dumped my bag and sat down, patting down the wisps of hair that had escaped the clips and logged on to my computer.

"Amelia, would you follow up the e-mail from that accountant at RBS, please, I've got a lot to get done today and waiting on people is just stress I don't need." My boss' voice came from behind me and I jumped slightly.

"Of course, Mr Barrett." I replied, getting to work. Mr Barrett was pleasant, but very highly strung. The morning passed slowly and without any appointments I managed to file through a backlog of paperwork undisturbed. Ten minutes before my lunch break I began to lose concentration and had created a rather impressive business card building when I heard heavy footsteps and looked up.

A large man with ash coloured hair followed by two other men, all in suits, had stridden up to my desk and were standing stoically, looking rather serious.

"Jim Moriarty to see Kenneth Barrett." The blond man announced before I had a chance to greet them.

I looked at the men doubtfully. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Can I speak with your boss?" He asked with a hint of annoyance, eyes flicking down to my card house.

"Mr Barrett is very busy right now you see." I said. "I'm afraid if you don't have an appointment you'll need to make one and come back another time."

The man took a slow breath.

"Mr Moriarty is a loyal customer of Kenneth Barrett and he would be highly appreciative if your boss could take the time out of his busy schedule to address an issue of great personal importance." He recited, as if it had been the one hundredth time he'd said it.

I frowned. I had worked for Mr Barrett for nearly a year and had never heard of a Jim Moriarty. Deciding this man wasn't worth arguing with I asked him to wait and put my head through the door into my boss' office.

"There's a man here who has a Jim Moriarty to see you, I told him he needs an appointment but he seems to think he needs to see you immediately." I said rather resentfully, aware of this encounter now eating into my lunch break.

Mr Barrett's mouth hung open for a second before quickly making a futile attempt at tidying his desk and muttering "Yes yes, today, right now okay, thank you Amelia take your break now, take 20, 30 minutes, send him through."

I was surprised not only that he really did seem to know this man but the effect the announcement was having on him- he looked flushed and his hands had begun to tremble as he stacked his paperwork and put it to one side.

I returned to my desk where the men were waiting.

"He said go through..." I said slowly, and the blond man smiled without emotion, before taking out his phone. I walked away towards the lift and heard him say "He's ready for you, sir."

On returning from my extended lunch break I craned my neck to look over my desk and through the glass wall of Mr Barrett's office. The three men were standing and Mr Barrett was looking uncomfortable facing a high backed chair, whose occupant I could not see clearly.

Working in a banking office meant a fair few inconspicuous and mysterious meetings, Mr Barrett was a rather important man in the world of British banking, so I let the encounter slip from my mind as I got on with my work. The sound of the door opening behind me made me look up, and two of the men walked past my desk.

"Cheerio until next time." A smooth voice with an Irish accent startled me as it passed and a slightly smaller man in a grey suit strode behind the first two, not looking back. The blond man followed but turned to me,

"We'll be back next week."

"Would you like to book an-" I started, but he turned and walked briskly away.

I looked around for Mr Barrett, who was looking rather unsteady leaning against the door frame of his office.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Nothing, nothing." He said, "Very loyal customer, matter of great personal importance," he repeated the blond man's words as if it himself before returning to his office.


	2. Chapter 2

The next week passed without similar incident, and Mr Barrett seemed to return to his usual busy self. I also gave it little thought- having spent most of my time this week preoccupied with the news that my older sister had fallen pregnant. At 26, she was 6 years older than me and had been in a relationship with her partner Tom since I was 12. Poppy had always been excitable and had been calling me nearly every night to shriek down the phone all the freaky new things she had learnt in her baby book.

My phone buzzed on Tuesday morning and I picked it up to read

'I think I'm showing already! There's definitely a bump since last night, Tom says it's probably a food baby, it could be a real one though! Can't believe I'm going to be fat already. Call me later x'

I smiled.

"Amelia make a pot of tea ready please , two cups, and get some of the nice biscuits I'm expecting someone this morning." Mr Barrett sounded strained again.

As I walked through the door into the kitchen I heard footsteps pass through the corridor behind me in the opposite direction. I paused and listened, but it seemed whoever the footsteps belonged to, 3 or 4 men I would guess, had let themselves straight into Mr Barrett's office. I brought the pot of tea and biscuits down the corridor and let myself into the room. The three men from last week stood behind the guest chair opposite Mr Barrett, who looked oddly relieved to see me with my tray of refreshments.

"Ahh, Amelia, set it down there if you would, thank you, erm, that's all, thank you." He gestured with a slightly trembling hand to his desk. I did so, before turning to leave the room and finally catching a glimpse of the man in the grey suit. He sat in the chair as if it were a throne, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he watched Mr Barrett who was clearly very uncomfortable. He was rather younger than I was expecting, with dark hair and glinting eyes that stared straight past me as if I wasn't even there. I supposed this was Jim Moriarty.

I felt rather on edge as I tried to continue with my work outside the office, feeling the presence of the strange man in the office behind me. The longer they were in there the more I began to worry, feeling concerned for Mr Barrett who had seemed distressed at the situation he was in. I stood up and began walking back and forth out of the room, busying myself with tasks that required me to stand where I could see over the desk and into the office. Nothing seemed unusual- all 5 men remained where they had been when I left them.

I began to suspect I had just been over thinking the situation when there were two unusual thudding sounds followed by a crash. I looked up into the office- Moriarty was standing, the blond man behind him holding out a gun aimed at an empty chair- and I realised with a cold dread what had just happened. The crash had been Kenneth Barrett's body hitting the ground. I dropped to the floor, crawled behind my desk and made myself as small as possible, trying not to look through the glass at the body of my boss slumped on the floor with bullet wounds in his head and chest.

The door opened and a familiar voice said "A shame, I was rather fond of that one."

I heard slow footsteps coming around the opposite side of the large, marble reception and I held my breath.

"Sort this out I want to go home." The same voice had lost it's hint of amusement and had become cold and bored. The footsteps walked towards the door before stopping at the last minute.

"Oh, and Sebastian," I could almost hear his eyes glinting in his voice,"the secretary is behind the desk."

I blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3

I was in a restless sleep for what vcould have been any amount of time. I drifted in and out of consciousness, dreaming of being slumped in the backseat of a car with tinted windows, of low voices talking on the phone and of cold needles being pushed under my skin. When I finally awoke I screwed up my eyes against the offensively bright light that was streaming through my eyelids; I groaned and threw my arms over my face, my head pounding and my mouth dry. I opened my eyes slowly to a chink of sunlight beaming down on my from a huge window and blinked, disorientated for a second. I realised with panic that I didn't know where I was, and the events of last night, or was it the night before, came flooding back to me. My boss was dead. And whoever had killed him had taken me with them.

I sat up slowly and found that I was in a large, king-sized bed with soft, white sheets. The bed was in the centre of a vast room with modern, monochrome decor and a huge mirror taking up an entire wall. I got up and padded over to it, someone had removed my shoes and left me in my black skirt and lilac blouse which had come untucked and creased down one side. My face was palid, eyes wide like a doe in headlights, and there was a startling red bruise creeping out from my under my hairline.

My next move was to creep over to the window, but to my dissapointment it left me even more confused regarding my location. I was high up, 5th or possibly 6th floor, facing out over an unfamiliar part of London. I clutched my arm, feeling a panic attack rising in my throat as my hands began to tremble. I had no I idea where or why I had been taken. I had no idea how to escape.

A thought suddenly struck me and I rushed over to the bed fumbling around the sheets, but my heart sank at not finding what I was looking for. The dissapointment turned to exasperation. Of course they had taken my phone away, it was stupid to assume this would all be so easy.

I circled the room for a good few hours according the the clock on the mantle, trying to calm my breathing and consider all the possible methods of escape.

Finally, I heard footsteps approaching my door and I froze where I was pacing, staring at it in horror. The key twisted and the blond man- Sebastian he had been referred to as- stepped into the room. He looked over to where I was standing and watched me warily for a few seconds, trying to judge whether I was likely to make a desparate attempt at escape. When I didn't he closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed.

"You've been taken under instruction of Jim Moriarty. What you witnessed in the office is not to be repeated to anyone for as long as you live, as is anything you see or hear at this location, do you understand?" He did not take his eyes off me.

I just stared.

"You will be retained here until we have no further use for you. In the meantime I will be making sure you have everything you need, you've not eaten for 3 days, is there anything you would like me to get you?"

I struggled to takein what was being said to me. Retained until they had no further use for me? What did they need me for now? And now he was offering me food as if I was staying in a hotel, not being held against my will after being hit over the head and drugged unconscious.

"If it's ransom you want, I-" I began, my voice shaking.

"It's not." He replied curtly.

We stared at eachother for a few moments.

"What do you want then?" I barely whispered.

He blinked. "I'm going to get you something to eat. I'll be back."

Weeks passed and I didn't once leave my room. I was brought food 3 times a day by Sebastain and made full use of my en suite bathroom by running a scalding hot bath most nights and lying in it for hours on end. I began meticulously picking the grey paint off the corners of furniture. I took apart whatever I could find and put it back together again. I didn't speak for days on end but to occasionally mutter my thanks for my prison guard who brought me meals. Above the panic, confusion, sadness and resentment, I was bored.

I thought vaguely of my sister, about how she was probably in fits of panic, calling my phone to find no answer, going to my flat to find me gone. After a month I gave up hope of ever seeing her again.

It was a Thursday morning, I believed, having been keeping count of the days on a notepad I had found in a cabinet draw. I rubbed my eyes but made no move to get out of bed, sleeping late helped to pass the days quicker. Sebastian knocked before unlocking and walking through the door, carrying a tray of breakfast and a black card box. He brought the tray over and set it down on the bed. I ignored it; my eyes fixed on what was still in his hand.

He watched my eyes. "Are you going to eat that?" He asked sounding rather irriated at my ignoring what he had brought me.

"What's in the box?" I asked.

He frowned slightly.

"You're going to see him today. Wear this." He handed me the box, inside which I found some deep purple fabric that a guesssed was a dress.

"See who?" My thoughts flickered to Jim Moriarty and the smooth, taunting voice that had been echoing in my head for the past month.

"Your new boss." Sebastian said, watching my reaction. "Get dressed, I'll be back in 30 minutes."


	4. Chapter 4

I took a hot shower, washed my hair and took advantage of the wide array of toiletries that had been provided in my bathroom. I did not know this man, but I had a feeling I should try to make a good first impression. I slid on the dress, it was soft and velvety, fitting me perfectly. I looked a good deal more presentable than I had for the past 4 weeks, and my hair fell in large natural waves down my back, yet I still looked willowy and startled.

After sliding on my black work heels for the first time since I was taken, Sebastian returned for me. I took in as much as I could as we left the room, glancing around at the long hall Sebastian lead me down. Turning a corner, we came to a black, wooden door; Sebastian knocked and I held my breath.

"Come in." Came a voice from inside, and Sebastian opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I walked slowly into a large study that fitted the modern look of the rest of the, apartment I now guessed, I had seen.

The walls were lined with black bookshelves, a huge television embedded into the centre of one, a small, high window throwing a chink of light onto a large desk which held two computer monitors and a large tray of tea and biscuits. A classical symphony was playing quietly and the occupant of a high backed chair was tapping his fingers to the tune of it.

I recognised immediately the man in the grey suit who looked up at the door as we entered, but again he looked straight past me at Sebastian. I couldn't help but feel relieved, I wasn't sure I wanted his glinting black eyes focusing on me. Sebastian ushered me into the chair facing the desk.

"Sebastian, I won't need you here today, you can go and make yourself busy doing...whatever it is that you do in your spare time, you deserve a break." He flashed a smile at the large man who nodded and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with him.

He turned to me for the first time, still smiling, and I felt cold as his eyes fixed on mine.

"So sorry I haven't even introduced myself, Jim Moriarty." He said, as if presenting me with a gift.

"Amelia- Amelia Parkes." I said, unsure if there was a right or wrong answer.

"I know. Sorry about all that business with your old boss by the way," He winced theatrically "Not very pleasant but had to be done. Also about keeping you cooped up for so long but I was terribly busy you see, Sebastian tells me you made yourself at home by defacing my furnishings."

I suddenly very much regretted my habit of destroying the paintwork on the furniture and I shrunk back into the chair.

Moriarty laughed. "Oh don't worry I'm not going to kill you over a chest of drawers, I'm not crazy, you know. Besides I don't even blame you you must have been SOOO BORED." His eyes widened as he raised his voice.

I watched him warily for a moment.

"What are you keeping me here for?" I asked.

He made an indecisive sound.

"...Curiosity." He finally decided on.

I began to feel a creeping panic in my chest as he regarded me, amused. Everything about him made my skin crawl, the self assured manor in which he held himself, the low, lilting voice, and especially the patronizing smirk.

I bit down on my lip, hard.

"Come," He said finally, "I'll show you around, you might as well get comfortable as you're going to be keeping me company here for a while."

He stood up, and waited for me to rise slowly from my chair, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him. I opened the door and entered the long corridor.

"Take a left." He said.

I turned and began walking dubiously down the corridor, feeling his presence behind me.

"Right." He instructed.

I pushed a door open and entered a large, open plan kitchen with shiny white surfaces. It looked relatively unused, and I wondered if Jim Moriarty ever cooked or ate anything.

"This is the kitchen, it's kept stocked up at all times, I trust you are capable of feeding yourself."

He threw a sideways glance at me, looking genuinely concerned for my answer.

"Yes..." I replied, barely audible.

"Good." He replied cheerfully, "Having a housepet would lose its charm rather quickly if I had to feed you all the time."

A smirk crept onto his face as he watched for my reaction at being referred to as a 'housepet'.

I didn't give him the satisfaction, and was silent as he lead me around the rest of the apartment, showing me a lavish sitting room with a huge tv, sound system and white leather sofa and a dining room with a glass table and yet another tv, however this looked in even more disuse than the kitchen.

"This is my bedroom," He gestured to an ajar door through which I could see a room not dissimilar to my own, with a large, unmade bed.

It felt strange to be looking into the personal space of such an elusive man, especially as it seemed to look so ordinary. I glanced at him, unsure if he wanted me to say something.

He chuckled to himself and smiled down at the floor.

"You and I are going to be best friends, just you wait." He said, looking up at me.

The reality sunk in, he wasn't going to let me go.


	5. Chapter 5

_Sebastian's POV_

"Sebaaastiiaaan," He whined my name like a malcontented child.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I set the documents down on his desk, all too familiar with this tone of voice.

Jim Moriarty pouted slightly as he twiddles a pen between his fingers.

"It's the girl."

I frowned. I was not a fan of keeping this girl in the apartment simply for Jim's amusement, but he was adamant.

"What about her?"

"I never see her. She waits for me to leave before she comes out of her room and only eats when I'm away or in my study. What's the point of having a live-in one if I never see it? How do I get her to _do_ something?" He asked, a look of irritance darkening his features.

"You abducted her and are holding her against her will, she's scared. What is it you want her to do exactly?"

"I don't know," He mumbled "Surely she should've got over the whole abduction thing by now..."

I took a deep breath.

"Whatever it is you want from her, it's not a good idea." I said.

His dark eyes flicked up. I sensed his displeasure at his decision being challenged, but I carried on.

"She's being exposed to confidential information, she's seen too much, and she's no use to us. She's a liability." I stated.

He looked at me for a moment before taking the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Sebastian." He said in a low voice, "You are beginning to try my patience."

Even I knew not to push Jim any further at this point, so I turned and left the study.

As I passed through the lounge area on my way out, I was surprised to see the girl sat on the sofa, arms wrapped around her knees, watching a nature documentary. Her eyes were wide as she watched the spider on the screen devour the smaller insect which had been caught in the centre of it's web.

 _Amelia's POV_

I flicked through the channels, unable to settle on anything. Usually I wouldn't venture out of my room at this time of day, but my desperate boredom had finally overridden my fear of another encounter with Moriarty. I decided on the news, in an attempt to keep updated on what had been going on in the outside world. There was a political debate going on, and I realised it was nearing the time of the general election; I listened intently, choosing to ignore the fact that this was a futile exercise as I would not have the opportunity to vote.

I had zoned out slightly when I heard a low chuckle from behind me which made me jump.

Moriarty strolled around the sofa and sat down next to me, flinging both arms lazily across the back of the seat. I shrank away.

"Did I alarm you? Oops."

I didn't look at him.

"Sorry I just can't help but laugh at these people."

I didn't reply, and I heard him sigh deeply.

"Amelia, you're going to have speak to me sometime you know, we can't keep having these one-sided conversations."

I dropped my eyes.

"Come oonnn," He said impatiently. He paused before adding quietly "Don't you want to know the sex of your sister's baby?"

My eyes snapped up and my heart began to pound.

"Not my sister." The words escaped with more force than I thought I was able to muster. "Please, you can do what you want with me but don't touch my sister."

"Aha!" His eyes lit up. "I've found the magic switch."

"What have you done to her? The baby- just leave her alone, I swear to God, you can't do that."

I had surprised myself with how angry I felt. I hadn't felt anything but fear in months.

He laughed.

"Don't worry, I won't touch a hair on her head, so long as you keep being this chatty." He smirked.

I looked away.

"What sex is the baby?" I asked quietly.

"All in good time." He replied.

* * *

That night I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about my sister, probably so excited about her news and unable to share it with me. Had she even reported me missing? Or just assumed I had gone off somewhere without telling her? When I couldn't stand thinking about it any more, I decided to look for a distraction.

I got up and padded down the corridor towards the kitchen. I chose from a wide selection of cereals, none of which appeared to be opened, and poured it into a black ceramic bowl.

I clicked my tongue as I did so , before flinching violently when a pair of cold hands came down gently over my eyes.

"Guess who?" A low voice breathed in my ear.

I didn't need to guess. My stomach clenched into an uncomfortable knot as his skin came into contact with mine and I wriggled away.

"You didn't guess." He said, frowning. I picked up my cereal bowl and walked through into the lounge.

"Jim Moriarty?" I asked, humouring him.

"Well it's too late now."

He followed and sat down on the sofa next to me again, I wished he wouldn't. I noticed he was not wearing one of his usual suits, but dark jeans and a grey t shirt.

"Do you often get up for a midnight snack?" He asked.

"I couldn't sleep." I replied quietly.

"Good. We can spend some quality time together."

He watched me, as if expecting me to do something.

"What do you do?" I asked cautiously, my curiosity getting the better of me.

He smiled. "What do you think I do?"

I thought for a moment.

"Something illegal?"

He chuckled. "If that's the way you want to look at it. I solve problems."

"What kind of problems?" I said slowly, confused.

"Whatever problems are worthy of solving." He replied, clearly enjoying watching me trying to decipher what he was talking about.

I thought again. He had my boss killed, me abducted, lots of money and a sniper come bodyguard working for him.

I looked at him. His dark brown eyes sparkled as he waited for my answer.

"Do you kill people?" I asked quietly.

He looked slightly disappointed.

"Sometimes people are problems." He said simply.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Of course not," He pulled out a packet of chewing gum and popped one into his mouth, "You're not a problem , as long as you keep behaving yourself."

He offered me one, but I shook my head.

"I should go back to my room." I stood up, put my bowl back into the kitchen, and passed the sofa again on my way to my room.

"I enjoyed our little chat, Amelia." He called after me.

"Me too." I replied unconvincingly.


	6. Chapter 6

I slept late the next day, finally venturing out of my room in search of breakfast at at 11.15.

Now that he wasn't feeding me three times a day, Sebastian spent less time at the apartment and Moriarty was rarely home during the day, so I walked down the hall in the silk pyjama shorts and vest top that had been provided for me- my wardrobe had been filled with new clothes, all designer. There was also a drawer of new underwear, but I had tried not to dwell on how either Sebastian or Moriarty had guessed all my measurements.

I started slightly as I entered the kitchen and came face to face with Moriarty, who had an apple in one hand and was again dressed in his more casual attire.

"Finally, what sort of time do you call this? I thought you might have escaped." He smirked.

"I-I wasn't expecting anyone to be home." I said, brushing some hair out of my face.

He frowned slightly at my messy hair and tired eyes."Mornings do not become you, my dear."

I blushed and walked past him into the kitchen, made myself a bowl of cereal and took it into the lounge.

He was sat on the sofa when I walked in, and I began to wish I had a little more than shorts on as he looked me up and down. Something was obviously amusing him.

I paused,"What?" I asked dubiously.

"You." He chuckled. "All long legs and wide eyes, you're like Bambi."

I frowned, but he patted the seat next to him, gesturing for me to sit.

I reluctantly joined him on the sofa and he took a bite of his apple.

"I'm working from home today," He said with his mouth full. "You can keep me company."

I pushed the cereal around my bowl with the spoon.

"Working?" I implored.

"Just in the morning, this afternoon I'm all yours."

I felt a blush creeping into my cheeks again and I bit my lip.

I decided to have a shower while he was safely out of the way in his office. I stripped out of my pyjamas, flung a pair of tailored jeans and a white top from the wardrobe onto the bathroom floor and climbed into the shower. The water was scalding hot, as I liked it, and I let it run over my face and through my hair for a good ten minutes, pondering Jim Moriarty. He was unlike anyone I had ever met before- theatrical and childish in a way that was almost charming, but at the flick of a switch became cold and intimidating. That was was terrified me the most- how unstable he was.

After getting dressed I examined myself in the huge mirror in my room. He was right- I had always been slim and when I wore heels Poppy always said I looked like a fawn on ice. I frowned slightly at my reflection, but eventually decided to pass the rest of the morning exploring the kitchen properly.

It was well stocked, although until now I had pretty much been living on cereal. I used to cook quite a lot at home, but living alone in a small apartment and working full time left me without a lot of time or money to fully exploit my interest. Now that I had an abundance of both I thought I might as well make the most of it.

I busied myself making a risotto and before I knew it I'd produced some home-made garlic bread and chocolate souffles to go with it.

Standing back slightly to admire my mornings' accomplishments, I had almost forgotten the events of the past few months until a whistle echoed through the kitchen.

"My my my, you have been busy." I turned to see Moriarty strolling towards me, hands in his pockets.

"You didn't tell me you could cook." He raised his eyebrows.

"I-" I mumbled, "Haven't done it for a long time."

He smiled.

"Did you make some for me?"

I hadn't planned to, but luckily had made much more of everything than I intended. I nodded.

"Mmm," He leaned over the tray of souffles and inhaled deeply, "These smell good, Bambi."

My stomach twisted uncomfortably at his casual use of a new nickname. He got two plates out of a cupboard, carefully slid a souffle onto one and handed it to me.

I took it uncertaintly, "I was going to eat dinner now." I said, glancing at the risotto.

He smiled as he dished up his own souffle.

"I eat my dessert first."

I frowned, but got two spoons out of the drawer and handed one out to him.

He leaned on the counter behind him, opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. Taking a moment to realise what he wanted me to do, I slowly scooped up a spoonful of souffle and held the spoon in front of his mouth. He raised his eyebrows slightly, his eyes were glowing smugly at my discomfort. I moved the spoon forwards and inch and he ate the souffle off it, closing his eyes and making a low noise of appreciation. I took a step back and looked at the floor, resenting my pounding heart and wishing his cruel flirting didn't have such an obvious effect on me.

I looked up to see him watching me, an unreadable expression on his face. It quickly vanished and was replaced with a smile.

"Just wait until Sebastian finds out you can cook, he eats like an animal." A look of mild disgust crossed his face.

"How long had Sebastian worked for you?" I asked.

"A long time." He answered, "He means well but conversation isn't really a strong point of his, bless him. That's why I have you."

I raised my eyebrows, I hadn't exactly been fun to be around in the past few months.

"So," He cracked his knuckles, "Any other secret talents I should know about?"

I thought for a moment. I had always been been good at maths at school, and had taken some courses in IT before getting my job at the banking office. Poppy always said I was the left half of the brain and she was the right- she was the creative one, more bubbly and sociable than I was.

"Hmm." I said, "Maths. And I'm okay with computers."

He cocked his head to one side slightly.

"We could put that to use I suppose."

There was a moment of silence.

"What about you? Any secret talents?" The words slipped out of my mouth as if we were having an ordinary conversation.

"Apart from my exceptional people skills and winning personality?" He asked with a smirk.

I dropped my eyes.

"I guess."

"You would be more suited to ask if there are any talents I don't have." He replied.

I felt him take a small step closer to me and I looked up.

"I'm good at getting what I want."

"That's not a secret talent." I mumbled.

He chuckled softly.

In an effort to distract him from deliberately making me uncomfortable any further, I asked, "What do you do when you're not working?"

"I talk to you." He replied.

"I mean before me. Don't you have any family?"

The easy smirk fell from his face and left a deadpan stare.

"No more questions."


	7. Chapter 7

I didn't see him again until the following evening, for which I was glad. I had pushed him too far, gotten too complacent. That cold, dead stare had set me on edge for the rest of the evening, and I had even jolted awake a few times during the night from dreams of Moriarty standing over my bed.

I had a shower at nine and changed into a loose-knit jumper and a pair of black shorts before venturing into the lounge to watch tv. I heard voices as I approached the dining room, the door was ajar and I paused outside as I passed- there had never been anyone apart from Sebastian, Moriarty and I in the flat before, and I didn't recognise any of the voices.

"There she is!" I froze as I heard Moriarty's voice acklowledge my presence, despite the fact I was out of sight and had made no noise.

"Come in, Bambi, I want to introduce you."

I came around the door slowly, Moriarty was at the head of the table, Sebastian was on one side of him and two men I didn't recognise on the other side.

"Boys, this is Amelia."

The two men did not look particularly impressed.

"Now now, don't be rude. Say hello." Moriarty's voice hardened slightly.

"Hello." They mumbled.

"Amelia's good at maths, aren't you ? How about you do a little sum for me. If these two gentlemen don't pay me my £25,000 by this time tomorrow how many unbroken bones will they have left?"

One of the men looked at the other, who took a deep breath.

There was a pause.

"Between them or each?" I asked.

Moriarty's eyes glinted.

* * *

I heard the door slam as Sebastian escorted the men out, and I glanced up to the doorway of the lounge to see Moriarty leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets. He was wearing one of his work suits again.

"Who were they?" I asked him.

"Just some clients who thought they could fiddle me." A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.

"Where is Sebastian taking them?"

"It doesn't matter." He replied, strolling into the kitchen. "They won't get very far." The kettle clicked.

I thought about the men. They were both older than Moriarty, and had such a similar expression of controlled concern I suspected they could have been brothers. I wondered what they owed him money for, why they hadn't paid it, and what Sebastian was doing with them now; while the man who gave the order made himself a cup of tea.

I didn't want to think about it much more, so I got up and joined him in the kitchen- he had made me tea as well using cups and saucers. I almost laughed.

"You don't take sugar, correct?" He asked without turning around.

"I-no." I replied, deciding not to enquire how he knew that.

I heard heavy footsteps and turned around to see Sebastian entering the kitchen.

"If you'd been back 5 minutes earlier I would have made you one." Moriarty said, as he handed me my tea.

Sebastian strode over and handed him a bank card. "7384." He said simply.

Moriarty smiled. "Good job, I hope you didn't leave a mess."

"The first one was stubborn but once he was dead the second one cracked." Sebastian replied.

"You killed them?" I asked.

Moriarty chuckled. "Oh, Honey."

I bit my lip as he carried on, "Sebastian, our Amelia is quite the little domestic goddess, she made the most divine souffles yesterday, like eating sex." I could hear the smirk in his voice.

I felt myself blushing again, but luckily Sebastian changed the subject.

"You have a meeting with Irene Adler tomorrow." He said to Moriarty, who smiled.

"Ahh. The woman." He looked at me but continued to address Sebastian, "Do you think she's ready to come on a little job with us?"

"The- Amelia, sir?" Sebastian sounded puzzled.

Moriarty rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Yes, Sebastian, Amelia. Who else would I have meant?"

There was a pause.

"If you think so."

Moriarty looked back at me, "He means no, good job I'm in charge or you'd never have an fun."


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning I was awoken by Sebastian letting himself in to my room.

"You're meeting an...assosiate of Jim's today, he wants you to wear the green dress."

I rubbed my eyes. "Where are we going?"

"It doesn't matter." He replied. "Be ready in an hour." He turned to leave, before pausing.

"Be careful, Amelia."

"Of this woman?" I asked, slightly confused at his display of concern.

"Of Jim." He said.

When he had left, I showered and found the green dress Sebastian had mentioned in my wardrobe. I had never noticed it being there before but I tried it on and found that, like everything else in my wardrobe, it fitted perfectly. It was a dark emerald green, almost black, in a silky material that cut off above the knee. I twisted my hair up and examined my face closer, before deciding to make use of the make-up bag on a shelf in the bathroom for the first time since I had been here. After applying a little to my eyes, I picked out an expensive lipstick in a matte crimson.

There was a knock at my door, I didn't answer it, expecting Sebastian to come in. There was another knock.

I walked over slowly and opened it, and came face to face with Moriarty.

"Good morning." He smiled widely. His suit was black, and he was wearing an emerald green tie I had never seen before.

"We match." I stated, raising my eyebrows.

"I thought it was a nice touch."

He gestured for me to walk ahead of him down to corridor and towards the front door. My heart began to pound at the prospect of leaving the apartment for the first time in months.

A firm hand closed around my wrist as I reached for the latch.

"Ah ah ah." Moriarty pulled a piece of cloth out of his pocket. I made to protest but he reached his arms around my head and tied the blindfold onto me.

I jumped slightly as his low voice murmured in my ear. "Ooh it suits you."

I heard the door open and a gentle hand took my waist, ushering me out of the door. I walked forwards uncertaintly, slightly unsteady in the black heels I was wearing for the first time.

"There's a step." He said.

I stumbled slightly over it and his grip on my waist tightened, holding me steady. He chuckled.

"I did warn you, Bambi."

He guided me into the back of a car, walked round and got in the other side. It was a smooth drive and Moriarty hummed quietly along to a classical piece which was playing on the car radio- I guessed that about 25 minutes had passed when I felt something brush across my face and the blindfold was removed. I blinked and looked around, the inside of the car was black leather, with tinted windows though which I could see an unrecognisable part of London flitting by.

"Had to wait until we were in a neutral location, nothing personal." Moriarty explained.

We drove for another 15 minutes before pulling up outside a huge, glass building.

"Park round the back." Moriarty said dismissively to the driver as we got out of the car. An identical one had pulled up behind, Sebastian climbed out and followed two steps behind us and we ascended the steps and walked through a revolving door. Reaching the 3rd floor in the lift, Sebastian and I followed Moriarty up to a glass reception in front of a lavish, minimalistic restaurant.

"Jim Moriarty." He said to the receptionist.

She checked the computer and smiled at us, "Mr Moriarty, your guest is already here. I'll show you to your table."

She lead us through the restaurant to a table by a huge window overlooking some part of the river Thames. A woman was sat at the table, and she rose as she saw us approach. She had dark hair, thin lips coated with deep red lipstick not a dissimilar shade to my own, and was wearing a knee length, black dress with a deep V neckline.

The waitress departed and the woman held out her hand to Moriarty.

"Jim Moriarty, it's good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure, Irene." He replied.

He glanced down at her hand and held his own up apologetically.

"Rather not. I don't know where they've been." He grimaced playfully.

The woman dropped her hand, and glanced around him at me, "Is she with you?" She asked him, sounding genuinely surprised.

I was disliking her more and more every second. Moriarty stepped to one side, "This is Amelia. Isn't she ravishing?"

The woman looked me up and down slowly and a small smile crept onto her lips.

"Utterly." She replied.

We sat down and ordered drinks, Moriarty and the woman talked for a long time about things I didn't understand, someone called Sherlock was mentioned a lot as well as someone Moriarty referred to as 'The Iceman'. I gazed out of the window behind Irene, taking in as much of the outside world as I could before I would surely return to the apartment. My thoughts were interrupted when she said, "So explain this to me."

She gestured to me.

"Explain what?" Moriarty said innocently.

"You know what I mean." She raised her eyebrows before addressing me, "I hope he's paying you well."

He answered for me, "It's not like that. I wouldn't expect you to understand, people like you have one-track minds. It makes you so easy to manipulate."

She frowned for a second before smiling slyly again, "Does that mean Mr Moriarty is still open for business?"

Was she flirting with him? I couldn't understand this woman, she didn't seem to understand who or what Moriarty was- or maybe she did and just didn't care.

"As if." He replied boredly.

She glanced at me. "I'm sure she won't mind, she's welcome to join us."

The look of boredom vanished from Moriarty's face and he smiled slightly, leaning towards her.

My heart rate increased slightly as he seemed to be reciprocating her flirting. The prospect made me feel unusual, yet I watched intently.

"What would happen," He said in a low voice, "to someone like you if I had Sebastian break that pretty face of yours, you'd go out of business wouldn't you? It is pretty much your only selling point."

Her face fell and he leaned away, laughing softly.

"What did I tell you not 5 minutes ago? You don't listen. If you continue to be so pathetically sentimental I'll get someone else to do your job."

"I'm not sentime-"

He cut her off, "We're leaving, Sebastian."

He stood up and turned to me, offering his hand. In another circumstance I would have refused it, but something made me take it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I turned to the woman before we walked away.

"It was nice to meet you." I said, flashing her a smile we both knew was false.


	9. Chapter 9

"Sooo," Moriarty began as the car pulled out onto the main road, "How did you find the Woman?"

I looked at him and he laughed, apparently the expression on my face was enough of an answer.

"Don't worry, once you get through the slimy exterior she has her uses. She's doing an important job for me."

"What does she do?" I asked, already having made my own assumptions.

"She whips balding, middle aged polititians and they pay her for it. A Dominatrix she calls herself." He sniggered.

"What job is she doing for you?"

He looked sideways at me.

"Is that jealousy I detect in your tone?" He implored with feigned shock.

I looked down at my hands, "No." I mumbled.

"Hmm, if you say so."

* * *

Sebastian did not return to the apartment with us, and Moriarty disappeared into his study for a few hours after we got back, so I prepared myself for another afternoon spent alone watching tv or killing time making dinner. I switched on the tv and my eyes flicked to a black wood cabinet on one side of it, I opened it absent-mindedly.

"Shit." I muttered, as a large, black spider scuttled out onto the inside of the door.

"You're a big one." I told it, extending one hand and cupping another over it lightly.

I had never really minded spiders, and was always the one who had to get rid of them growing up when Poppy had been hysterical.

I carried it over to the glass coffee table next to the sofa and let it crawl off my hand. Walking back over to the cabinet I examined to the inside. I was full of dvd's- I wasn't sure what I had been expecting to be in a television cabinet, but somehow that wasn't it. It was an unusual collection- I recognised a few titles such as The Godfather, Psycho and One flew over the Cuckoo's nest, but the rest were names I didn't know. I tried to imagine Jim Moriarty watching a film, he didn't strike me as someone who liked to concentrate on one thing for a long period of time.

I ran my finger over the spines, wondering if putting one on would be a good idea. I had just about decided on The Godfather part II when I heard his voice behind me.

"Ahh, you found the home cinema."

I looked around and raised my eyebrows.

"Okay you got me, it's not particularly vast, just a few of my personal favourites."

His usual smirk played around his mouth as I pulled out my movie of choice.

"Not the first one?"

"I like this one." I replied.

He shrugged and I put the disk in, turning back to sit on the sofa when I saw him standing, eyeing the coffee table with a look of mild disgust on his face. I followed his gaze to the spider I had set down there earlier, he looked at me.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't like spiders." He frowned.

"You're scared of spiders?" I couldn't keep the hint of amusement from my voice.

He threw me a dark look of exasperation, "Did I say scared? I said don't like, learn the difference."

"Should I move it?"

"No thanks." He said in a mock high voice, before strolling over to the coffee table, picking up a glass paperweight and slamming it down, crushing the spider. He turned and smirked at me triumphantly, before sitting down and patting the space next to him again.

I took a seat without saying anything. He talked the whole way through the movie, correcting people and chuckling at what seemed to be inside jokes he had with himself. The film went on for a little longer than I was comfortable with, as it started getting dark outside and the temperature in the apartment dropped. I began to figit about halfway through, not sure if how he would react if I tried to leave. However, my theory about his attention span turned out to be correct, and he soon went in search of further entertainment.

"Your sister had another scan today."

I turned and looked at him, but he continued to stare at the tv screen.

"Is she okay?"

"Spiffing." He replied in a mock English accent.

"And the baby?" I asked, my pulse was fluttering.

"It's fine, they're both fine."

I was silent for a moment.

"I want to know the sex."

He turned to look at me slowly.

"I want doesn't get." He smirked, but his eyes were cold.

"You have to tell me. I've done everything you want, please. She's my sister." My voice was as firm as I could make it.

He took a deep breath, "There's something you should know, Amelia, and the quicker you grasp it the better off you'll be. I don't _have_ to do anything."

I dropped my eyes.

"And you think you've been going along with all this to keep your sister safe? Do you really believe that? You did it because you wanted to, there's something about this life-something about me, that attracts you. We both know it whether you want to admit it or not." His voice was cold but I detected a hint of enjoyment.

"There is nothing about you that attracts me." I replied, before getting up and escaping into the kitchen.

"Don't walk away from me, Amelia." I heard him call, and I gasped as his breath suddenly tickled my neck and I could feel the energy of his body inches behind me.

"Bambi." His low voice breathed in my ear, "Don't be angry with me, it's all for your own good."

"Is it?" I asked, my voice shaking.

He put a hand on my waist and turned me to face him, his black eyes smouldered into mine as he licked his lips.

"What do you want from me?" My voice was faint as I asked him the question for the second time.

He leaned his face into my neck and I felt his lips brush my skin as he spoke.

"Your innocence."

I stood deathly still for a few moments, my heart pounding, before writhing away.

"Don't touch me again." I warned him, "You're wrong about me, I don't want this life, I don't want...you. I'll get away and you'll never find me, so give up."

He watched me silently for a few seconds and I bit my lip hard, my head was spinning and I felt like I could pass out at any minute. In a split second one of his hands was on my hip and had shoved me back into the kitchen counter, the other planted on a cupboard behind me. He towered over me and his voice was the lowest I had ever heard it when he asked,

"Are you afraid of me?"

"No." I lied.

A manic look lit up his eyes and he smiled widely, leaning his face even closer to mine.

"You should be." He whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

I winced slightly as I rolled over, it had been a week but the bruise from the kitchen counter on my side was still tender. Light was streaming through my window, but I dreaded getting up- being in the same room with Moriarty was now even more unnerving than it had been previously, and for the entire week I hadn't been able to look him in the face. Luckily, he had been spending less time in the appartment, and when he was he was usually in his study.

I put off leaving my room for a little longer by having a shower, then I chose some jeans and a jumper from the small portion of my clothes I actually wore and made my way to the kitchen. A wave of dread passed over me when I saw a figure already there when I walked in, but it was just Sebastian making himself a cup of coffee. I exhaled; Sebastian had been spending more time at the appartment recently, and although we rarely spoke more than a few words to eachother at a time, his presence made me feel safer.

He turned as I entered, "Morning."

"Morning." I greeted him back.

He gestured with his hand holding the coffee jar, a silent question if I wanted one. I shook my head. I made myself some toast, got an apple out of the fruit bowl and made to take it to the lounge, but froze as I heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Deciding I wouldn't have time to make it to the lounge without passing him, I set them back down on the kitchen counter and pretended to be looking for something in the fridge.

"Sebastian, he's nearly figured it out, I need to be at the pool tonight." His voice sounded preoccupied and I heard him taking a chewing gum packet out of his pocket.

"Okay. I'll pack my stuff into the car."

"No rush," Moriarty replied easily, "Finish your coffee."

There was a long pause, and I knew I had been looking in the fridge too long. I closed the door slowly, almost hoping that if I didn't make any sudden movements he wouldn't notice me.

I slowly looked up and met Moriarty's eyes, he was watching me with a smirk on his face.

"Good morning." He said, sounding amused.

"Morning." I muttered in response, looking down at my feet again.

"She's coming with us." He said to Sebastian.

I looked up, Moriarty had gone, and Sebastian was frowning at where he had been standing.

"Coming where?" I asked him.

Sebastian's eyes met mine.

"You won't be in danger." He didn't answer my question.

"I'm always in danger." I answered simply.

He couldn't argue, but said, "If I could stop this I would."

I looked at him. He was a large man, tall and strikingly muscular, with a hard jaw and piercing eyes; physically intimidating in every way. Yet there was a look of genuine concern in his face, and had he not been working for Jim Moriarty I would have believed he was actually a good person.

I was surprised to feel tears well up in my eyes- I hardly ever cried, and throughout this whole ordeal this had been the first thing that brought me to tears. Not being drugged and abducted, not being ridiculed and intimidated by my captor for months on end, or even physically assaulted, but a small sign of actual compassion from another human being.

He looked away and I wiped my eyes quickly, eager to make this encounter less embarrassing for both of us.

I took my breakfast back to my bedroom, and waited to be called upon.

* * *

I passed the time in my room all day and when I began to think they had decided to leave me here there was a knock at my door, I glanced at my clock- quarter to 11 pm. I prayed for Sebastian, but instead _he_ stood, hands in the pockets of his black suit, excitement lighting up his eyes as I opened the door.

"Today's the day, Bambi," He chewed his gum crudely," the grand reveal."

I didn't answer, fear overriding my curiosity.

"You're going to love it." He assured me, before gesturing me to walk.

I paused at the front door and dug my nails into my palms, waiting for him to blindfold me again. He fastened the cloth over my eyes without saying anything, I heard the latch open and his hand snaked around my waist again.

"I can walk okay," I protested.

"Don't be stupid." He replied.

After getting into the car we drove for about 20 minutes before he removed the blindfold. I tried to figure out where we were going- Moriarty had said something about a pool but that didn't make any sense. And who was the 'he' he had mentioned? I wondered if this was something to do with what Moriarty had discussed with The Woman, someone called Sherlock. Sure enough, Sebastian, who I noticed was driving, pulled into a car park of a leisure centre and parked.

Moriarty cracked his knuckles and looked at me, "Wish me luck, not that I'll need it." He got out of the car and strode into the doors of the leisure centre, leaving me in the back of the car.

"Where is he going?" I asked Sebastian.

"The pool." He replied, opening his own car door and getting out. I followed him round to the boot of the car, where he was getting out a black rucksack and some pieces of metal equipment of which's uses I didn't know.

"You'll be with me." He said as we walked into the leisure centre and up some stairs on the left, "I need to get set up."

I followed him down a small corridor which had a glass panel along the floor about a meter high, overlooking the swimming pool. It was empty and considerably dark. Below us there were changing rooms on the right and doors at both ends.

Sebastian knelt down in front of the glass and began unpacking the bag. I sat cross-legged beside him and watched him intently as I realised he was unpacking his rifle. After setting up all his equipment he removed a panel of the glass and lined up with it. If we had come here to shoot someone where had Moriarty gone? Or maybe he was meeting someone here and needed protection.

We waited quietly for about 15 minutes, when Sebastian's phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. I glanced at it- a message from 'JM' which just said '5 minutes and we're on. Enjoy x'. Sebastian put his phone back in his pocket and held his rifle steady with his hand again.

My heart rate began to increase in anticipation. Sure enough, I had counted 4 minutes when the door at the far end of the pool burst open and a strange looking man entered. He was wearing a suit, had a curly mop of black hair and striking cheekbones. He looked around and squinted up at where we were sat, I held my breath, but we were in darkness and invisible to him.

Suddenly, he pulled something small out of his pocket and held it up,

"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you-present. Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles; making me dance- all to distract me from _this."_

I wanted to ask Sebastian what is was, but I dared not make a sound, so I just watched as another man stepped out of one of the changing rooms to face him. He was smaller, and was wearing a very bulky looking coat.

They exchanged some unusual greetings, and I quickly caught on that the smaller man was being told what to say through an earpiece. Sure enough, "What...would you like me...to make him say next?"

The man's name was John Watson, and I tried to think where I had heard it before when a more familiar voice rang though the pool.

"I gave you my number," Moriarty's mimicking voice was an octave higher than usual, "I thought you might call."


	11. Chapter 11

I watched as Moriarty toyed with the men, clearly enjoying himself greatly as he finally revealed that he had been behind whatever events he had set up for them over the past few weeks. He also suggested that they had met before while the two men had been blissfully unaware- that sounded just like the kind of cruel irony Moriartywould find amusing. I did my best to deduct exactly what was going on between them from what Moriarty was saying and couldn't help but feel slightly impressed by the intelligence behind the operation.

"People have died." Sherlock said in a low voice.

"That's what people _DO!"_ I flinched slightly as Moriarty shouted, and the men looked shocked at experiencing his impulsive fury for the first time.

I began to feel uneasy, watching him flirt heinously with other people was uncomfortable to watch. However my heart pounded when John Watson grabbed Moriarty and I wondered if he was in any genuine danger. He, however, sounded just as amused by this as everything else they had said so far and sure enough the man let go when Sebastian aimed his rifle at Sherlock's head, where a red dot appeared.

When it was finally over and Moriarty felt he had made enough of an impression, he retreated back into the changing rooms at the side of the pool and I looked at Sebastian. He didn't move.

Sherlock removed the coat full of explosives from John and flung it across the room. They spoke quietly for a minute when Sebastian's phone buzzed again, I didn't see the message but he immediately took hold of his rifle, and a red dot appeared on John's chest.

"Sorry, boys! I'm soooo changeable." Moriarty strode back out into the pool. "It is a weakness of mine but to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness."

The men stared.

"You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't."

Sherlock raised the gun and pointed it at Moriarty. I leaned forward, unsure if I desperately wanted him to pull the trigger or if I was fearing for Moriary's life. He lowered it to the explosives and Moriarty tilted his head to one side. What could have been any amount of time passed and Sebastian's hands stayed steady. Finally, an unexpected sound echoed through the pool- Stayin' Alive rang out and and the two men looked as confused as I felt.

"Do you mind if I get that?" Moriarty sounded irritated as he answered his phone. I looked at Sebastian, but he focused intently on his job.

"Say that again." Jim was saying to the person on the phone "And know that if you're lying to me I will find you and I will ssssskin you."

All too quickly, Moriarty seemed to change his mind, and strode out of the door closest to us, still making threats to whoever he was talking to, he clicked his fingers as he left and Sebastian lifted his rifle.

"Let's go." He said, skilfully packing away his gear in less than thirty seconds and rising to pace down the corridor.

Moriarty met us at the car and Sebastian pulled out of the car park quickly, pulling onto a main road and driving faster than I suspected was legal.

Moriarty frowned irritably, and I could tell he was infuriated by his little show being disrupted. I didn't say anything until he clicked his neck on both sides and turned to me, the look of irritance gone and leaving only a satisfied smile.

"So how did you find him?" He asked, with the air of someone asking their friends' opinion of a new boyfriend.

"He was...strange." I said, "Clever though." In truth, this was the only person I had ever encountered who seemed like they could be a match for Moriarty.

"That's the point." He replied, "That's what Sherlock Holmes _is_. Strangeness and cleverness."

"Who was the other man?" I asked, "John Watson?"

He chuckled.

"Good old Dr Watson, he's Sherlock's little sidekick. A dear soul but he makes it all too easy for me."

Dr Watson. That name definitely rang a bell, but I did't say so- although Moriarty spoke of the men with a strange sense of fondness I didn't want to be accused of fraternizing with the enemy.

I was soon blindfolded again and waited patiently for the car to come to a halt, I heard the two men get out of the car and I opened my door and climbed out, pausing to wait for Moriarty to escort me back into the apartment. Sure enough, he placed his hand on my waist from behind and applied a slight pressure, pushing me to walk forwards. His finger brushed over my bruise and I bit my lip, wondering if he was doing it on purpose.

I began to frown as we didn't take the route I was expecting, normally we would have been in the lift by now.

"Where-" I began, but was cut off by a low "Ssshhhhhh." In my ear. I continued walking and soon we seemed to be inside somewhere and he removed my blindfold.

I glanced around me and saw that we were stood in the middle of an empty warehouse. There was a look of clear disgust on Moriarty's face as he too judged our surroundings.

"I hate these places." He muttered.

There was a door at the far end of the room and Sebastian was watching it warily; my eyes too flicked to it as I heard approaching footsteps, was this Sherlock again? Moriarty took a small step forward so that he and Sebastian were on either side of me. I was beginning to feel anxious as the door opened- a large man with a shaven head and resolute expression walked in and, spotting us, strode forward. He had broad shoulders and was muscular, but not as tall as Sebastian and looked older.

"Which one of you is Moriarty?" He asked in a strong eastern European accent.

Moriarty took a packet of chewing gum out of his pocket and took a small step forward, chewing loudly in reply.

The man, who I suspected was Russian, looked him over.

"You are younger than I was expecting."

"Better looking, you mean." Moriarty smirked.

"You have the money for me?" The man got straight to the point.

"You'll be paid when you've done the job." Moriarty answered.

The man shook his head, "I want my money up front. These are my terms."

Moriarty laughed. "You're working for me, you don't have terms. You can do what I want or stop wasting my time."

The man was quick to temper, "This is not what we agreed, you said I would haver the money up front." He raised his voice.

"I changed my mind." Moriarty answered calmly.

"You don't just change your mind! You need me to do this job, you won't get anyone else to do it." The man took a few more steps towards us and Sebastian tensed slightly.

"I think you're underestimating me," Moriarty's voice was still light, "A common mistake, I'l forgive you for it just this once. Here's the thing, you can do this for me on my conditions and go back to your lovely little family in Russia or... you can not do it. And we'll see what happens."

The man's face faltered for a second, before he suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun, Sebastian responding at lighting speed, drawing his own and pointing it steadily at the man.

"Oh so that's how you want to play." Moriarty still sounded amused, "You think you can kill me before Sebastian pulls that trigger and the contents of your head hit the floor. Well you're welcome to try."

The man stared at him, before turning his attention to me.

"Who is she?" He asked.

Moriarty made a face, "Well, irrelevant to this conversation."

The man pointed the gun towards me and my heart began to pound.

"She's pretty," The man commented, trying to get to him, "She means something to you, she's-"

"IRRELEVANT." Moriarty shouted, and the man flinched and turned the gun towards him.

Moriarty pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"This is becoming tiresome, if you're going to try to kill me get it over with so I can go home."

The man considered his options and Moriarty raised his eyebrows. Suddenly, there were two deafening bangs and something shoved me to the floor, hard. My leg was burning and I began to feel hazy as figures moved in front of my eyes.

"Sebastian." I heard Moriarty's voice filled with fury as if it were a million miles away, "Alive."


	12. Chapter 12

I was moving. I could feel myself ebbing up and down as if floating through the air, but soon began to feel strong arms materialising around me and something solid which my face was leaning into. I opened my eyes and felt a hit of dizziness, and a few seconds later a throbbing pain in my thigh took me by surprise.

"Ahhh." I winced.

I realised I was being carried, and looked up to see Sebastian staring straight ahead, expressionless.

"What happened?" I asked him.

"It's just a flesh wound, you'll be fine." He replied.

"A flesh wound- what- did I get shot?" I remembered the deafening bang and my leg throbbed meaningfully.

He didn't answer.

"I- something pushed me." I remembered.

Sebastian nodded, "Jim had me check you were okay, then I extracted the bullet and wrapped up your wound."

"Where is he now?"

"He's getting another car."

I remembered the second gunshot, "What happened to the man?"

"He's dead." Sebastian answered simply.

"You shot him?"

He hesitated, "Eventually."

I waited for him to expand on that, not sure that I wanted to hear it.

"Jim wanted it to be slow, to... make a point. It was the leg first, then kneecaps, shoulders, throat. He bled out after that."

I was glad I hadn't been conscious to witness it, not the man's slow and violent death, but Moriarty's uncontrollable rage that had condemned him to it.

* * *

Moriarty returned to the apartment late, Sebastian had carried me to the sofa and waited with me- I told him I would be fine alone but was ignored. The door slammed and we both looked from the tv to the doorway of the lounge. Moriarty walked in slowly, but the brooding look vanished from his face as he saw us.

"You didn't have to wait, Sebastian, she's not exactly going anywhere." He smirked slightly.

Sebastian nodded and stood up, turning to look at me, "You'll need to change those wrappings before you go to bed, do you want me to do it now?"

"I'll do it." Moriarty said, there was a hint of possessiveness in his voice that made me uneasy.

Sebastian nodded and glanced at me once more before turning to leave. Moriarty's eyes followed him before he too strode out of the room. I let out a shaky breath, the pain in my leg was almost unbearable and I had not yet brought myself to look at the wound. He entered again holding a roll of bandage, some cotton wool and a bottle of clear liquid. Putting them down on the coffee table, he gently took hold of my legs, lifted them and placed them back down onto his lap as he sat down before I could protest. It was a horribly intimate gesture and I looked away from him as he began to unwrap the bandage from my thigh.

I heard him wince as he removed the last layer, "You took a nasty one there, Bambi."

I looked; the wound was covered in dried blood which probably made it look worse than it was, but there was a significant hole in the side of my thigh where the bullet had embedded itself.

I couldn't help but feel self conscious about it- it was an ugly wound which would definitely leave a scar.

"Sebastian told me what you did to the man." I said quietly.

He shrugged and made a mock guilty expression.

"I may have got a bit carried away."

I let out a small gasp of pain as he trailed a finger lightly over my thigh.

"Can you blame me?" He asked, "He's messed up my girl's leg, I don't think I'll be able to keep you if you end up with a limp." He teased me easily, and I felt a blush in my neck as he referred to me as 'his girl'.

"You need to take these jeans off." He stated.

I looked at him.

"They're covered in blood and I need to wrap the wound properly."

Sebastian had only ripped the bullet hole in the fabric open more and bound the bandage around my jeans. Moriarty was watching me and raised his eyebrows when my eyes met his.

He rolled his eyes, "Wait here."

He lifted my legs again and walked out of the room, returning with a black, satin blanket. I swung my legs round and he sat beside me, held out the blanket and looked deliberately in the other direction.

"I won't look."

I slowly and painfully slipped off my jeans, before throwing the blanket over myself- a hint of his cologne wafted though the air as I did so, and placing my legs carefully back on his lap. He pushed the fabric up my leg slightly to reveal the bullet wound and began cleaning it with the cotton wool and clear liquid.

It stung angrily and I leaned my head back, a quiet sound of agony escaping my lips.

He continued to work, swiftly and skilfully cleaning the wound and binding it with bandage. When it was done, the wound was tender and my entire leg ached.

"I won't let this happen again." He said, "I can't have people seeing you as a weakness."

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"You're mine now, Amelia. Some people will see that as a pressure point, once you can walk again Sebastian's going to train you to look after yourself, I can't have him watching over you forever."

"I'm yours?" I asked faintly.

He began trailing his fingers over my wound again, making me wince.

"It's too late for you now, my dear." He replied, before meeting my eyes with his glittering black ones,"You're head over heels."


	13. Chapter 13

A few weeks passed and my leg got worse before it got better. I had been cleaning and changing the dressings every few hours while it continued to bleed, but after a few days the flow staunched and an ugly scab began to develop. The morning after it happened I had woken up to a pair of crutches outside my bedroom door, which I despised, but had to use to get around the apartment- much to Moriarty's amusement, who would suppress giggles every time he saw me with them.

He hadn't elaborated on what he had said to me the night I got shot, and I had spent a great deal of time, more than I would have liked, dwelling on it. Head over heels. I was sure he made an effort to keep me up all night with everything he said to me, as if he chose every word for that specific purpose. The worst part was, a small part of me thought I knew exactly what he meant.

I rolled out of bed and took one of the tablets Sebastian had been giving me to speed up the healing process of my leg, and looked down at it. There was a still a dark hole of torn tissue and black scab, but the surrounding skin had healed and the muscle the bullet had grazed had been freed to move around without causing me agony, meaning I could walk, slowly and carefully, without the crutches.

I wrapped it back up and made my way to the kitchen, meeting Sebastian on the way.

"Go and get dressed." He said.

"Why?" I asked, "Where are we-"

He cut me off, "You're training today."

"Training? I can hardly walk; he can't expect me to start yet."

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, and I caught his drift. Jim Moriarty wasn't exactly the type of person to have reasonable expectations.

"Don't worry, we'll start with gun training."

* * *

I drummed my fingers on the table as he unpacked a small selection of guns, including his own rifle, and began to talk me through the basic models. He had brought me to some kind of private training centre- possibly police or military- which was completely deserted. I wondered absent-mindedly if Moriarty owned it.

He made me repeat everything he had told me about each one, the caliber, how to load and unload it, how to clean it and when to use it, before I was allowed to touch any of them. He finally handed me the smallest one and let me put my new knowledge into practice. I picked it up quite quickly and was surprised when Sebastian said 3 hours had passed; I had actually been enjoying myself.

"We should head back." Sebastian stated, "Jim said he doesn't want me keeping you out too long."

"Couldn't we stay a little longer?" I asked.

He looked confused.

"It's just," I looked down, "It's nice to be out of the apartment for a bit."

He stared at me for a few seconds before his brow relaxed and he stood up, "30 minutes."

"Where are you going?"

He picked up two guns and gestured for me to follow, "You can tell me everything necessary about those guns backwards, let's see if you can shoot one."

I did not take to the practical lesson quite as well as I had the theory- my first shot propelled so much unexpected force through my arm I nearly fell over. After the initial shock I got a bit steadier, but was still nowhere near the target.

Sebastian watched me and shook his head, "Your balance is off, you need to distribute your weight evenly between both legs."

"I can't." I answered begrudgingly.

He thought for a moment, thick eyebrows furrowed.

"Try twisting a bit more, put your good leg in front and lean forward on it."

I did as I was told, and my shots improved significantly, although still not quite hitting the target.

I made a frustrated sound as I missed for the 17th time and Sebastian took the gun from me, put it in his backpack and we made our way to the car.

"Don't worry," He said as we walked back through the centre, "No one hits it in their first session."

"Did you?" I asked.

A rueful smile I had never seen before tugged up one side of his mouth.

"That's different."

* * *

Moriarty was in the kitchen when we returned and he looked at his watch meaningfully as he saw Sebastian walk in.

His unimpressed expression vanished a second later and he smirked at me.

"How was she?" He addressed Sebastian.

"She's a pretty fast learner." He replied.

"What about the shooting?"

"Appalling."

Moriarty burst out laughing and I scowled at Sebastian.

"Awh don't worry, Bambi, you'll get the hang of it." He said patronizingly as he strolled towards me and brushed his fingers against my thigh. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from the pain showing on my face.

"She would do better if her leg wasn't messed up." Sebastian said.

The smirk on Moriarty's face vanished and his eyes darkened.

"Well that's hardly my fault is it, Sebastian?"

Sebastian murmured, "No." And Moriarty rolled his eyes theatrically at me and stage whispered,

"He's in a bad mood; let's leave him alone to mope."

I followed him to the lounge and perched on the sofa next to him as he flung himself down.

"Don't mind Seb, he's just a big old softy. Makes him uncomfortable to see people in pain, which is ironic seeing as he kills people for a living."

I thought about this for a moment. I had often wondered about Sebastian- behind the stony exterior he had shown glimpses of genuine concern for my safety, yet on the same day had shot a man in the throat.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Authors note:** I just wanted to address a couple of points that were brought to my attention by SKYSPRITE's review (thank you for the constructive criticism by the way it's very helpful for me) that I thought some other readers may also want to know. About my main character, Amelia, I understand that at the moment she is pretty elusive and having a better idea of her personality would be helpful in the fic, I have a pretty well rounded view of her in my head which I probably don't add enough of to my writing as I forget the readers too can't see this, so I will try and let the reader get to know her a bit more in future. It may also seem as if she isn't reacting normally to her situation- Amelia is very independent and a good coper however to deal with her circumstance she has managed to go into a state of eerie calmness, possibly brought on by shock or adrenaline- the only thing she seems to be having real trouble with is Moriarty himself. However, he may push her over the edge at some point in the next few chapters. This chapter is a little different so hope you enjoy it! Also I just want to say thank you to the people who left guest reviews as I can't reply to you personally x._

Sebastian and I went training every day for the next week, alternating between shooting practice and theory work so as not to put too much pressure on my leg. My aim improved, slowly and painstakingly, and now I was able to hit the target most times, even if I was nowhere near the centre. On other days we would sit at the table and Sebastian would talk me through other methods of self defence- he taught me how to handle a switchblade, how to tell if someone is armed and what they have on them, pressure points, how to get out of grips and headlocks, breaking wrists, breaking arms and breaking necks. I listened carefully to everything, not allowing myself to wonder if I was ever going to need any of it.

I had taken a few self defence classes when I started working at the bank- the walk home was long and my flat was in a pretty secluded area which got creepy when it was dark. I dropped out after the first couple though, any form of physical endurance wasn't really my thing and I found it was just making me even more paranoid than before.

It was a Monday morning and Sebastian walked me quietly through the centre, we were doing theory today and I went through what I had been taught in the previous session in my mind, ready for the rigorous testing of my knowledge Sebastian gave me at the beginning of every session. He placed his bag down on the table and took a gun out, slipping it into a sling under his jacket. I stood warily, why was he arming himself?

He answered my unspoken question, "You're doing some real practice today, I've got you some subjects."

"What?" What did me mean subjects? I'd been learning about self defence, surely he didn't expect me to defend myself against real people.

He gestured for me to follow him and lead me to a small room I had never been in before. It was joined to another, larger room by a two-way mirror and a door on one side. In the other room there were two men, each seemed to be fastened to metal chairs. One was large, unshaven, with a greasy t shirt and one black eye; the other was smaller, skinnier with a cheap suit and watery eyes.

I stared at them, and Sebastian explained, "Human trafficking. Picked them up early this morning with a van full of young girls from Korea. Jim wanted you to have some real experience, so I chose some subjects society wouldn't miss."

"You want me to kill them?" I didn't look away from the men, who were looking around the small room disorientatedly.

"Not yet." He answered, "You're going to show me how to break bones, cripple muscles. Go through everything I taught you. I'll watch from out here."

"What are their names?" I asked.

"They don't have names." Sebastian replied coldly, "They're not human, just meat."

I looked at him, any aspect of the caring man I had seen glimpses of was not present now; he was a teacher, nothing more. My heart began to pound, everything about this was screaming to me that it was wrong. This wasn't self defence, it was torture. I looked at the men; men who had girls abducted from their homes, drugged and humiliated, and eventually sold on to be abused. The amount of pain and death that had been caused by their hands alone was probably extortionate. Sebastian was right, society wouldn't miss them. It wasn't torture; it was justice.

I took a deep breath and turned the handle of the door, walked into the room and shut it behind me.

The two men looked up.

"Who the fuck are you?" The smaller one demanded.

"They've sent us a whore." The larger one said, his mouth hung slightly ajar and he laughed throatily.

"She's not a whore." The other answered, "Answer my fucking question."

I just looked at them; 6 months ago I would have been deeply unsettled by these men, but being exposed to Moriarty for so long made them almost laughable. Sloppy.

Sebastian's voice came through the speaker, "Find the pressure points."

I took a small step forward.

"What's he talking about?" The smaller one asked me," Where's your boss?"

I ignored him, eyes on the larger one.

"Come over here, sweetheart, I won't hurt you." He drawled as I took a step towards him.

"If you let us go you can come and work for me, I could use one like you."

He chuckled as if he thought I didn't know what he was talking about. I was studying his thick neck from a distance to figure out the right pressure point when the other one raised his voice.

"Listen to me, you little slut, I know men who would do unthinkable things to you so you better start treating us with some respect before you end up regretting it."

I turned to him slowly and looked him up and down.

"I don't know what you think you're trying to do but it's a dangerous game for a girl like you to be playing. I work with girls like you every day; I know how your brains work."

I walked towards him.

"Whatever you're thinking, you're not capable of it, they never are. So remember your fucking place and go get your boss."

I stared at him for a moment before leaning forward, grabbing one of his wrists and pressing down on the centre of his arm as I wrenched his hand upwards. There was an audible snap and the man let out a stifled cry of pain.

"You little bitch." He moaned through clenched teeth.

"The wrist." Sebastian's voice rang through the room.

I took the wrist on his other arm and twisted it violently, there were a series of clicks and it swung at an unnatural angle when I let it drop. He reached his broken arm out towards me in a desperate attempt to grab me but I batted it away, causing him to gasp in pain loudly. His legs struggled against the rope tying them to the chair legs and I stood back, waiting for my next instruction. Adrenaline was pumping though my veins and my head was cloudy, but I felt no remorse as I stared at the man writhing in the chair.

There was an air of reluctance and some curiosity in his voice as Sebastian said slowly, "Neck."

The man started screaming then, and I stood looking at him for a few moments, before turning to the other.

He had been furiously rattling the handcuffs which fastened him to the chair, and looked up as he felt my gaze upon him.

"Come on, sweetheart, I didn't mean to hurt those girls," He pleaded, "It's just business."

I took a few steps towards him and twisted his neck at a sickening angle. He fell silent as it crunched.


	15. Chapter 15

Sebastian didn't speak on the journey home, for which I was grateful. I still felt like I was in a dream- like any minute I would wake up having only dreamed I just killed a man, or better still, in my own apartment having never heard of Jim Moriarty. As the adrenaline wore off my leg began to ache and my hands started trembling. When we returned to the apartment I pulled the blindfold off myself and went straight to my room, not even looking at Sebastian for fear of what I might see in his eyes.

I crawled into bed and slept restlessly for hours, waking jerkily from dreams that someone was breaking my leg, only to find that I had been lying on top of my wound and my pulse was throbbing in it. When I couldn't stand to drift in and out of consciousness any longer I got up and went to the lounge, planning to switch the tv on deafeningly loud so as to drown out the sound of bones snapping which was echoing in my head.

I was relieved to find the lounge empty, and sat down staring at the tv for what could have been another hour, taking nothing in. Every few minutes I would forget, drifting into thoughts of my sister or my life before being abducted, only to remember again suddenly and feel my blood run cold. I had counted four months. Four months since I was taken, three in Moriarty's company, and he had already broken me. I didn't even react when I felt him come and sit offensively close to me. I dropped my eyes, not wanting to know his opinions on what I had done.

He cleared his throat and said, "So Sebastian told me what happened in your little training session today." There was a definite hint of amusement in his voice, as if he was trying not to laugh.

I looked up at him, and sure enough he seemed to be having a hard time keeping a straight face. When he met my eyes he smiled at me apologetically.

"Oh don't get me wrong, I _love_ it," He closed his eyes as he exaggerated his words, "Colour me impressed. I won't lie; I didn't think you had it in you."

"Neither did I." I mumbled.

"You don't regret it, do you?"

I looked back at him, my eyes wide, "Yes."

"Don't lie to me, Amelia." He was still smiling, but his voice became a little impatient.

"I didn't...feel sorry for him." I said quietly, before adding, "Sebastian said they were human traffickers, they abused people."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

A cold sense of dread crept into my stomach as I tried desperately to figure out if he was just toying with me.

"Don't worry about it, I committed my first murder at 11 and look how I turned out." He smirked, "Although I didn't break his neck, you still outdid me on that front."

He was clearly enjoying himself immensely, and as if my current discomfort wasn't enough he extended a hand and brushed his fingers gently across my cheek.

"Who would have thought something so small could have so much anger."

I met his eyes and saw that they were lit up with a slightly manic delight; he licked his lips and laughed softly. I continued to stare at him when he dropped his eyes- he had an interesting face; when you looked past the perfect grooming and brazen smirk, he was quite a young and innocent looking. Maybe that was what made him so unsettling.

"How many people have you killed?" I asked him.

He shrugged and made a face.

"Have you ever done it... yourself?"

"I don't like to get my hands dirty." He replied easily.

"Is that the answer?"

He twisted his neck slightly to the side and exhaled, "So this is what happens, you kill someone and suddenly you're too confident for your own good."

It sounded like a warning, and my heart began to pound at the reminder at what I had done, but I didn't move my eyes from his and he raised his eyebrows.

"Hmmm." He stared at me for a long time before standing up and striding out of the room.

* * *

The next day I was reluctant to continue my training, but Sebastian ignored my protests and took me to the centre early as usual. We were shooting again, and neither of us mentioned what had happened the day before. I had managed to hit the target every time, now being able to put more weight on my wounded leg, and I tried out a couple of new guns. My brow furrowed as I concentrated, and was startled as I heard an Irish accent echo through the room following one of my better shots.

"Ooh, she really is lethal." I turned to see Moriarty leaning against the doorway, watching me.

Sebastian ignored him, "Lock your elbow, it jerks when you shoot and throws the bullet off course."

I did as I was told, feeling pressurized my Moriarty's presence, and I missed the target for the first time in days. After a few more failed shots I sighed and ran my hand through my hair exasperatedly.

"I need a break." I said to Sebastian, who nodded. This wouldn't fly normally, but on a count of Moriarty turning up unexpectedly he seemed to understand my need to gather myself.

I walked into the next room along and leaned my hands on the table, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Seb working you too hard?" I bit my lip; I should have known he would follow me in here.

"I can handle it."

"That's what I like to hear." His footsteps echoed through the room as he walked slowly towards me.

"Why do I need to learn all this?" I asked, turning to face him.

"I told you, you need to be able to look after yourself."

"I can look after myself. I managed before I met you." I replied indignantly.

He continued to approach me, "You lived in a different world before you met me, looking after yourself means something different now, and you need to learn."

He was face to face with me now, I tried to move away from him but he put a firm hand on my waist and held me where I was.

"See." He smirked.

"See what?" My heart rate was increasing as I considered the few inches between our bodies.

"You think you can look after yourself, but when it comes to me you're defenceless." He leaned into me slightly and added in a low voice, "It's pretty adorable actually."

I twisted away, but he grabbed my arm firmly, his eyes not leaving mine.

At that moment the encounter was interrupted by Sebastian, who cleared his throat and addressed me, "Amelia, breaks over."

Moriarty didn't move.

"She's busy." He answered for me.

"She needs the practice." Sebastian replied in a tight voice.

Moriarty turned his head in Sebastian's direction.

"I'll decide when she needs the practice."

Sebastian made to retort but Moriarty cut him off, "Don't ARGUE with me, Sebastian."

Sebastian glowered for a few moments, before turning on his heels and striding swiftly out of the room.

Moriarty turned back to me.

"He's got a little soft spot for you." He chuckled, "Poor thing, he'll get over it."

I wasn't thinking about Sebastian, I was thinking about Moriarty. His hand on my waist, his body parallel with mine, how much I hated him, or hated the fact that I liked it. He was toxic, like a disease that was slowly and painfully infecting my body, and the more aware of it I became the harder it got for me to look at him. This was the man who had kidnapped me, threatened my pregnant sister, and led me to kill someone, yet as his eyes flicked down to my lips and he licked his own I found myself actually wishing he would kiss me.

He tortured me for a few more moments before turning and leaving the room.

"Work hard."


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's note:** Going to shamelessly self-promote and say if anyone reading is a MorMor fan/shipper I recently uploaded a one-shot and I would really appreciate it if you could check it out. Thanks and enjoy. x_

The rest of the session dragged, but I was determined not to let Moriarty's visit distract me. I concentrated devoutly on my shooting and managed to start getting them in the target again, biting my lip so hard it wasn't until we packed up to leave I realised I was bleeding. Sebastian handed me the blindfold as we walked towards the car- he trusted me to put it on myself when he told me to.

He didn't come in when he dropped me off at the apartment, just walked me in and closed the door behind me. I wondered about what Moriarty had said about him; Sebastian having any romantic feelings for me were out of the question, but he did seem opposed to whatever was forming between Moriarty and I. Maybe he really did have some kind of moral compass. I finally allowed myself to consider what had happened today- whatever it was had been a mistake, a glitch in my common sense. Everything in my body was wired to hate Moriarty., and that was the way it needed to stay.

I realised I had been standing silently in the hall for a good five minutes, and decided to get something to eat. I slaved away making spaghetti carbonara for an hour or so, slowly drilling it into my head that I hated Moriarty, I had made a mistake, and I would dedicate the rest of my time here figuring out how to escape.

I heard footsteps behind me and continued working, concentrating on keeping my pulse at a normal speed. I saw him appear next to me in the corner of my eye and dip his finger in the sauce I was making.

"Tasty." He commented, "We'll have it tomorrow night."

I didn't look at him, but frowned in confusion.

"Tomorrow night?"

"We're going out tonight; I can't stand staring at the inside of this apartment any longer."

I glanced at him, and all my hard work from the last hour fell away. He had an expression of boredom on his face as he glanced around the kitchen begrudgingly, but my heart started to flutter as he turned to look at me.

"Going out?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level.

"I have a meeting with an associate first, boring. Then we'll go somewhere fun."

He looked me up and down, "Get dressed, your poor fashion sense reflects badly on me."

I did as I was told, choosing a simple black dress, and put on some make up. Returning to the living room, I could hear the sound of a shower from down the corridor leading to Moriarty's room. I ignored it, sat on the sofa and picked at my nails, wondering where he was planning on taking me apprehensively. A thought struck me suddenly and I bit my lip- the last time we had gone to an 'associate meeting' I had gotten shot. What if this was what I had been training for? I still wasn't ready to defend myself against anyone; my leg wasn't fully healed so we hadn't even started any kind of physical training. I should at least have a gun on me, otherwise I would have absolutely no method of defence.

As far as I knew Sebastian kept the guns, but I was sure there must be one in the apartment somewhere. I walked reluctantly down the corridor towards Moriarty's room, it was part of the apartment I had rarely ventured to, and knocked on the door. The sound of the shower had stopped about 10 minutes before so I was sure he would be nearly ready.

Behind the door was silent, and I lifted my hand to knock again before it swung open suddenly. Moriarty stood, half dressed, with wet hair and a sullen expression.

"What?" His tone was monotonous.

"I-" I was taken aback at the sight of him looking so ordinary- without the slicked back hair an expensive suit he looked almost like a different person. My eyes moved slowly over his body, curiosity getting the better of me; he wasn't large like Sebastian, but his lean torso was toned and there were suggestions of muscle in his chest and arms.

He saw my eyes lingering and the irritated expression made way for a self-satisfied smirk. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

"You what?"

I gathered my thoughts and looked him in the eye.

"For this meeting, I'm still not ready to look after myself without some kind of protection; I might need to take a gun." I said very quickly.

His smirk got wider, "Not today."

"Okay." I said, feeling a wave of relief.

He watched me for a few more moments, eyes glinting, before running a hand through his wet hair and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"I'll go and wait in the lounge." I muttered, dropping my eyes and walking down the corridor without looking at him again.

* * *

The car journey was silent, and when my blindfold was pulled off I saw that Moriarty had not looked up from his phone to reach over and undo it one-handed. His eyebrows were low and he pouted slightly as he concentrated- I wanted to glance at the screen over his shoulder but couldn't bring myself to for fear that he would somehow sense me looking. He ignored me until the car pulled up outside a grand, old fashioned building which looked like a hotel, where he waited for me at the door to escort me in. I looked around as we walked through the lobby into a large restaurant- the ceilings were high and intricately decorated and the furniture was grandiose and traditional.

Moriarty didn't seem as impressed at our surroundings as I probably did, and he stared straight ahead as he strode through the restaurant as if he owned the entire building. We approached a table with high backed chairs, one of which was habited by a man about my age, who was scanning the room, eyes slightly narrowed. He watched us approach and stood as Moriarty stopped at the table, offering a handshake.

"Mr Moriarty." He smiled as they shook hands. He was a little taller than Moriarty, attractive, and a look on his face like he knew it.

"I am he." Moriarty replied, not bothering to hide the boredom in his voice.

The man didn't seem to notice, and his eyes moved to me. He extended his hand again.

"Dean Cooper." His smile widened as his eyes moved across my face.

"Amelia." I replied, a little taken aback at being directly addressed by one of Moriarty's clients.

We shook hands, and I allowed myself to return his friendly smile.

Suddenly, I felt Moriarty's hand snake lightly around my waist as he gestured to Dean with his other hand.

"Take a seat." He said lightly.

I was surprised by the sudden display of apparent affection, seeing as Moriarty had acted as if I didn't even exist for the entire journey here. He watched Dean sit down before gently guiding me into one opposite and sitting beside me.

"Speak quickly, I have things to do." He poured himself a cup of tea from the pot that was already on the table.

Dean looked slightly bewildered by Moriarty's rudeness, but he began,

"It's...my mum's boyfriend. He's, well, they both have some problems with substance abuse, but he's got her onto it all, and she won't leave him. I've offered to buy her a flat, get her some work, but she won't take it. I-"

Moriarty cut him off, "You want him dead."

"Well," Dean shot me a questioning look, to which I just grimaced apologetically. "That's...what you do isn't it? Get rid of people."

He watched Moriarty apprehensively.

"Yup." Moriarty cracked his knuckles.

"Okay, so where do we go from here?" Dean looked from Moriarty to me, "Who do I give the...details to?"

"My assistant will get them from you when we leave."

Dean continued to look at me, "So, you're not the assistant?"

"No." I glanced at Moriarty, who was sipping his tea.

"Sooo what are you, like?" He gestured to Moriarty with his eyes, his confidence returning now we were off the subject of killing people.

"No, I-" I wasn't really sure what to answer. I looked at Moriarty again for some direction, but he was just watching me, looking half curious and half amused.

"I'm just an acquaintance." I finished. Moriarty raised his eyebrows, but Dean smiled.

"Good, so do you live around here?" He asked; I was out of practice at making small talk, so I just answered, "Sort of, yeah."

He reminded me of an ex boyfriend of mine, the easy smile and bright eyes. It had been a short-lived relationship, as most of them had been. I had always struggled at maintaining a relationship- Poppy used to say I was a 'serial dumper' because I broke up with almost every guy I ever went out with in the first two months.

Moriarty allowed the conversation to go on until Dean leant an inch forward in his chair and began, "So do you think I could buy you-"

Dean paused as Moriarty reached casually for my hand on the arm of the chair and began idly trailing his finger over the back of it. It was a minuscule gesture, one which probably would have gone unnoticed in any other conversation, but here it screamed possessiveness.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, which was broken by Moriarty.

"I believe you're forgetting the reason we're here, Dean. I did tell you I had things to do."

"I-Sorry." Dean looked a little unnerved.

Moriarty smiled.

"My people will be in touch." He stood, and I followed suit, glancing at Dean apologetically as Moriarty put a hand on the small of my back and escorted me out.


	17. Chapter 17

"It's a shame, he was handsome." Moriarty said lightly as we walked back through the lobby.

"A shame?" I asked.

"I'm afraid you'll never get that drink." He teased. "Mr Cooper is not long for this world."

"You're going to kill him?" I felt a sudden wave of sorrow for the man who had seemed more or less well-meaning.

"Lesson one; I never meet clients face to face. If I do it means they'll be dead before they can share any kind of information about me with anyone else."

I frowned and implored cautiously, "What about people you meet face to face? Who...aren't dead yet?"

He looked offended.

"Amelia, after all this time you still don't trust me?"

We paused outside the car and he leaned one hand on the door to prevent me from opening it.

"Should I?" I asked.

He pretended to think, "Mmm, no probably not." He smiled and opened the car door.

I gazed out of the window curiously as we drove through London- Moriarty had promised somewhere 'fun' but that word seemed to have a different meaning to him than it did to most sane people. I didn't recognise my surroundings when the car came to a halt, and I craned my neck to see that we were at the bottom of an alarmingly tall building. I looked at Moriarty, who was looking rather smug as he got out of his side of the car.

He led me into the building without saying anything and strode straight past the reception desk, where I noticed Sebastian lurking as the receptionist typed at her keyboard frantically. I shot Sebastian a questioning look, but before he could respond we turned a corner and were faced with a lift. I stepped in and Moriarty pressed a button before leaning back against the handrail and watching me. I avoided his gaze awkwardly as we ascended two floors, before the lift was suddenly filled with dusky light and the view of London became visible through two glass walls. I watched as it sank lower and lower until I could barely see the people on the streets. I could feel Moriarty's eyes still on me as the bell dinged and the lift doors opened.

We walked out into a vast, circular room with glass walls and a balcony surrounding its entire circumference outside. I followed Moriarty over to a door to the outside and stepped out into the wind reluctantly as he held it open. The balcony was about two meters wide with metal railings around the edge, but I stood back as close to the building as I could as Moriarty stepped out next to me.

He looked amused and leant one arm against the rail casually, "Scared of heights are we?"

"Not heights." I muttered, "Just falling to my death."

"Hmmm." He stepped towards me and put a hand on my waist, turning me around to face out over the horizon. He stayed close behind me and rested his hands on the railing either side of me.

"You know, humans are born with two fears." His breath tickled my ear as he spoke, "Falling, and loud noises."

There was a moment of silence as I looked down briefly at the sheer drop over the edge of the barrier and tightened my grip on it.

"What are we doing up here?" I asked in a tight voice, wanting to step further away from the barrier but knowing that would move me closer to Moriarty.

"I like tall buildings." He replied. "Puts things in perspective; everything down there is so small, so...inferior. I can see all of it from up here, all the tiny people going about their tiny lives. I could bring this city to its knees with a click of my fingers and they just have _no idea."_

"You won't though." I implored quietly.

"Not today." He stepped away from me and I exhaled and turned away from the view.

He was watching me with an unreadable expression on his face.

"It's a girl." He said simply.

I had a moment of genuine confusion before realising what he was referring to and grabbing the handrail once again. I felt like all the air had escaped my body at once and I struggled to take a few deep breaths. My sister's baby. My sister, the only real family I had in the world, was having a daughter. I almost laughed, I knew that was what she had wanted despite not wanting to admit it.

Moriarty was still watching me, apparently either somewhat entertained by my reaction, or just enjoying his power trip.

"I-thank you." I said faintly.

"It was worth it so see your little face light up." He answered patronisingly.

I was beginning to panic that there was some kind of alterior motive for revealing this valuable piece of information; there was something glittering behind his eyes that was making me uneasy.

"You'd be surprised at the lengths I go to for your benefit, Amelia." He went on, "Dean Cooper knows though." His face broke into a smile.

I frowned.

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly.

"Did he remind you of anyone?" He answered my question with another.

I froze. He couldn't be referring to what I had been considering earlier. He couldn't possibly know that miniscule detail, unless he really could read my mind.

"...no." I lied.

He made an amused face, "Bambi."

"I- he reminded me a little of someone I used to..."

"Date?" He finished for me, "Huh. Well that was rather the point."

"How-why would you do that?"

He shrugged. "I was curious. I wanted to know if you missed your old life, the old mundane boyfriends. Because let's be honest they were really all the same. I did my research."

My heart was pounding but he continued to speak.

"You don't." He smiled, "When I got a business request from Dean I just couldn't resist confirming it for myself."

"The plan was to kill him all along? You killed him because you were curious." I dropped my eyes. As if it wasn't bad enough that I had taken a man's life from someone myself, now someone else was dead because of me.

"As did you." He replied.

"That was different." I argued.

"No it WASN'T." He snapped loudly, dark fury passing over his face before it became calm as still water once again.

I was panicking now; the wind whipped around me and I began to feel a creeping claustrophobia at being trapped between Moriarty and the edge of the building.

He stepped towards me and I bit my lip so hard it started to bleed, never had a man scared me so much in my life as Jim Moriarty did. He was relentless, theatrical, unpredictable, and without remorse.

He stood face to face with me, looking down into my eyes, not invading my personal space quite as intrusively as he usually liked to. I could feel my pulse beating under my skin but stood frozen by his cold, black eyes.

"Kiss me." He said.

My mouth fell open slightly at the obscenity of his request. My delusions from the other day had come back to haunt me, but now I didn't want them to come true. There was no defected attraction, quiet obsession or secret longing; only fear. It clouded my head and consumed my body, like a fog that surrounded me, filling my eyes and throat.

"I...don't want to..." I barely whispered, not daring to look away from his eyes.

"Let's play a game." He accentuated every word smoothly, "Kiss me. And if you don't like it I'll let you go."

I stared at him, eyes wide. My mind began to consider the possibility of freedom, seeing my sister again, being there for the birth of my niece, being an ordinary person again. All I had to do was the thing I wanted the least in the world right now.

My heart raced as I took a tiny, unsteady step forward and moved my face unnaturally close to his. He didn't move, just watched me. I reached up onto my tiptoes slightly, my stomach twisting violently as our lips brushed for a second as a result of my clumsy movement, before I pressed mine to his. The fog had entirely consumed me, but his lips were cool and soft, and his hand gently placed on my waist to steady me was almost inviting. I increased the pressure, leaning into the kiss a little more and for a few blissful moments it almost felt right.

Suddenly, it was too much. The white heat spreading in my body jerked my back to reality and I pulled away abruptly, dropping my eyes for fear of what I would see in his.

"Hmm." He sighed quietly and I looked back up at him.

He was close to me again, his voice low and barely audible, "Feel free."

He made a gesture for me to leave, but I didn't move.

"Unless..." He moved even closer, impossibly close, so that I could feel his minty breath as he spoke, "You don't want to."

Three agonizing seconds passed, and I couldn't bring myself to think of Poppy. I knew in that moment, I would give up everything- my life, my family, my sanity- for the man standing in front of me. Nothing existed in that moment but Jim Moriarty.

Suddenly I was kissing him again, unsure of whom had initiated it, I wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His hands were firm on my waist, and he kissed back without the control he had in the first kiss. His lips were hungry, dominating mine skilfully while he pushed me back against the safety rail with enough force to make it tremble. It dug into the small of my back as he pushed me further, so that we were leaning out over the abyss, arms wrapped around each other tightly.

This was so wrong, but he felt like a part of me. A dark, twisted part of my soul all my life I never knew I had until I was abducted by it.

Seeming to read my mind again, he pulled away slightly to press his forehead against mine. His eyes bore into mine manically and a wide smile spread across his face.

"Gotcha."


	18. Chapter 18

_Sebastian's POV_

Something was different when Jim returned to the car with Amelia. I waited patiently in the front seat and watched them approach in the rear view mirror, Jim opening the door for her politely and placing a hand on the small of her back to guide her in. It wasn't an uncommon gesture- a hand on her waist or a brush of her thigh were small tools Jim would often use to extend Amelia's discomfort or send a message to those watching, in most cases me. However something about her reaction had changed, she did not cringe away from his touch as she used to, but almost leant into it.

I brushed it off as Jim instructed smoothly, "Home, Sebastian."

I glanced in my mirror at my passengers a few times during the journey- Jim seemed relaxed, watching out of the window with a satisfied expression, but Amelia was not so laid back. She held her hands in her lap, staring at them as if deep in thought about something, glancing up suddenly at Jim every time he adjusted his position slightly. I wondered what had happened at the top of the building- had he threatened her? Hurt her? I wouldn't put anything past Jim, and something had obviously happened to cause her to look so on edge and him so smug.

Something else caught my attention- Jim didn't blindfold her. She had never been so close to the apartment without our location being protected, but he showed no intentions of keeping it confidential from her any more. It wasn't in his nature to forget an important detail like that.

Even Amelia seemed to notice this anomaly, and began to glance around out of the windows as we approached home. We pulled up in front of the lavish apartment building and I got out of the car, holding it open for the passengers before following them into the building. The change in atmosphere was making me uncomfortable- there seemed to be an unspoken fact hanging in the air between them, as if they were both in on something I was unaware of. I put a bag of my stuff down in the hall before turning to leave, but Jim stopped me.

"Not yet, Sebastian. I thought we could have an evening in; all three of us." He smiled, obviously amused by how absurd the notion of an 'evening in' with a consulting criminal, his sniper bodyguard and the girl they had kidnapped sounded.

Although it was dressed up like an invitation, I knew this wasn't to be negotiated, so I followed him back into the lounge where Amelia was waiting.

"You two will have to occupy yourselves for a little while; I have some work to do." He said.

A strange look crossed Amelia's face, half relieved, half disappointed. Jim strolled past her on his way out of the room and paused to place a small kiss on the side of her head, before slipping his hands into his pockets and walking out of the door.

A deep colour had crept into her face and I could see her hands trembling slightly as she looked apologetically at me.

I was frowning. That was why Jim had made me stay- so I would see. Amelia sat down at the far end of the couch and wrapped her arms around her knees, waiting for my reaction. I took a seat and asked slowly,

"Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head and dropped her eyes guiltily, "He let me go."

"He let you go?" I repeated, admittedly shocked. "Well, why did you come back? Are you going now?"

She shook her head again.

"Why-"I stopped as she looked back up at me, eyes wide, "Oh, shit."

The realisation of what I thought would never happen came crashing down on me. All the flirting and ridiculing was Jim's way of manipulating people, but I had no idea that in Amelia's case it had had another motive. She had been ensnared deeper and deeper for months, and she was now finally so tangled in his web she couldn't leave even if she had wanted to. The poor, afflicted girl had fallen in love with Jim Moriarty.

I didn't know what to say to her. We stared at each other for a long time with a quiet, mutual understanding. This would never be a healthy or functional relationship- Jim was a psychopath. He would be fiercely possessive of her, shower her with gifts of limitless expense and even let her in to the world of his business, but he would never love her back.

"You know what you're doing don't you?" I said finally.

"No." She replied, so faint I could barely hear her.

"Being with Jim- this life- you'll see things. Do things..." I trailed off as I realised my warning had come too late. Already she had tortured and taken a man's life. She looked at me, eyes full of knowing.

"He isn't a man." I said, "He's...something else."

"I know, Sebastian." She replied, "But if he's a monster, what does that make me?"

 _Amelia's POV_

We sat quietly while Jim was working, Sebastian didn't try to reason with me any further, for which I was grateful. If I could choose any other fate than this one, as if I wouldn't take it.

I finally decided to flick the tv on to drown out the pitying silence, just as I heard a whistling down the corridor and my heart began to thrum in my ears. Moriarty strolled over to the sofa before seeming to change his mind suddenly and walk through to the kitchen. I awaited his return anxiously; unsure of what would ensue when he, I and Sebastian were together. I could hear him moving some things around in the kitchen and recognised the sound of the oven turning on.

He re-entered the room, and I noticed he had changed from his black suit into some jeans and a white t shirt. He looked ahead at the tv as he sat down next to me, watching whatever I had flicked on. I saw Sebastian shift uncomfortably in the corner of my eye, but Moriarty was entirely relaxed as always.

"Operation Magpie next week, Sebastian." He stated, still staring at the tv.

"Next week?" Sebastian sounded surprised, "Will everything be ready by then?"

"Of course, what do you think I do in my office all day, Sebastian?" He answered rather irritably, before turning to me.

"I've got something special planned, Bambi, you're going to love it." He told me, placing a hand lightly on my thigh. He was sat very close to me, and spoke in a lower tone when addressing me than he had done with Sebastian.

"What is it?" I wondered quietly, doubting that I would in fact 'love it'.

He made a face of feign shock.

"I can't tell you now, it's a surprise."

"Give me a clue?" I asked carefully.

He chuckled and his hand became slightly firmer on my thigh.

"Don't be impatient." He sounded amused, but there were some warning tones in his voice.

He picked up the remote with his other hand and flicked through the channels, before settling on some kind of reality show where two people were screaming at each other.

I looked at him in disbelief, "Jeremy Kyle?"

Sebastian groaned.

"I love reality tv, it's so funny." He sniggered at the people on the screen, now awaiting results of a lie detector test.

"Sebastian and I play a game. See who can guess who the liar is correctly the most times- I always win of course."

"That's because I have more important things to worry about." Sebastian muttered.

"Oh ignore him, he loves it really." Moriarty smirked.

I sat quietly listening to Sebastian and Moriarty's deductions- it wasn't a challenging exercise for either of them, but they both seemed to be enjoying exploiting their cleverness at reading people. Moriarty especially. It started getting late and I was starting to feel strange. My eyelids were heavy and hot, my heart beating heavily and I began to shiver. I wrapped my arms around my knees- Moriarty's arm was now stretched out over the sofa behind me. I was starting to drift off when I was awoken by a loud declaration of,

"LIAR!"

I jerked awake and realised my I was leaning into Moriarty, my head resting on his shoulder and one knee falling into his lap.

"She cheated." Sebastian agreed from the other sofa, glancing over at me as I awoke.

I clutched my knees again and sat up straight- the digital clock on the dvd player made it 2:56 am. I wanted to retire to my room, but was worried Moriarty wasn't done with me today and would make me stay, or worse; follow me. I wasn't sure where I stood with him now- what he was expecting out of this 'relationship'. It wasn't as if I hadn't had intimate relationships with guys before, but Jim Moriarty was an entirely different matter.

He glanced at me.

"You're sleepy."

I shook my head.

"You were asleep not 30 seconds ago."

He stood up and offered me his hand, pulling me to my feet from the sofa and leading me to my bedroom. My heart was pounding now and my head spun slightly. I wasn't sure if this was caused by me coming down with some kind of illness or the prospect of Moriarty spending the night in my room. He opened the door and let me in, before pausing at the doorway.

"You've got a busy week, don't stay up all night I don't want you being all sleepy and tedious." He told me, before leaning in slightly, snaking an arm around my waist and pulling me roughly towards him. I caught my breath and stared at him as he held me close, licking his lips.

"Sweet dreams." His lips were inches from mine, but he released me without closing the gap. I exhaled and he left me stood in the doorway, swaying slightly, as he strode away down the corridor.


	19. Chapter 19

**_Author's note:_** _Sorry for the long wait between chapters, been really busy but hopefully will be able to start writing more regularly again. Thank you for following x_

When I woke the next day, I felt dreadful. I rubbed my eyes carefully as I squinted around the bright room, but my head throbbed consequently and the room lurched around me. I leant back into the pillow and prayed that Moriarty didn't have any plans for me today; I currently doubted my ability to get out of bed.

I checked the time on the digital clock beside my bed- 8:16 am. He was usually gone by now, hopefully I would have the apartment to myself to recover from my sudden bought of illness. I suspected my experience on a windy balcony hundreds of feet in the air had been a contributing factor, as well as the stress of the recent months.

I massaged my aching forehead and counted the passing minutes, until there was a sharp knock on my bedroom door. I waited, Sebastian would have just walked in by now. There was no movement behind the door, so I sat up carefully and prepared to face my captor. The room spun as I hobbled over to the door- my leg had started to ache again and it wasn't improving my already impaired balance. I took a deep breath and pulled it open, coming face to face with Moriarty. His hands were in the pockets of his grey suit and he was chewing gum as he greeted me in a sing-song voice.

"Rise and shine!"

I clutched the door frame and winced in reply.

The smile dropped from his face.

"What happened to you?"

"I'm not well, I feel bad." I looked up at him apologetically but he looked far for sympathetic.

"Not well? You chose today to get some kind of illness?" He glowered at me, "Sometimes, just sometimes it feels like people are deliberately stupid just to _infuriate_ me."

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and took a deep breath.

I judged explaining to him that contracting an illness wasn't actually in my control as an unwise idea, so I just mumbled a half-hearted apology.

"You're sorry?" He laughed venomously, "Well thank you, Amelia, for your apology, that's really useful to me. I can really _use_ that today when I have to explain to my associates why you're not there, I'll tell them you're really _sorry._ "

I didn't know how to react to his irritated outburst, so I dropped my eyes and didn't say anything. I hoped feebly that if I remained quiet and still his dark mood would pass and he wouldn't grow any angrier with me.

"You better be well when I get back." He said in a low voice, and when I looked back up, he was gone.

* * *

The day passed and I only began to feel worse- I managed to drag myself into the living room, clutching a silken blanket around me, but decided my legs wouldn't carry me the distance to the kitchen and collapsed on the sofa instead. I half watched the tv between drifting in and out of sleep, a hollow ache beginning to settle in my stomach. I glanced longingly in the direction of the kitchen, but as I shifted my weight the room lurched sickeningly and I sank back into the sofa.

I was dozing when I heard the key turning loudly in the door and jerked awake. Two sets of footsteps echoed down the corridor, one lighter and faster than the other. Sure enough, Jim Moriarty was the first to enter the living room- his eyes fell on me curled up in one corner of the sofa, tangled in my blanket, and a dark look fell across his face.

I didn't move, anticipating another angry outburst at my diminishing health, but a moment passed and he strode into the kitchen. Sebastian followed, and I heard the sound of cupboards opening and closing, before Moriarty re entered the room with a bowl of cereal, crunching loudly.

He paused and called to Sebastian with his mouth full, "I don't want to be disturbed while I'm working, there's only so many inane conversations I can have in one day."

He didn't look at me.

"And keep her away from me until she looks human again." He added as he left the room.

I bit my lip, I was generally pretty thick-skinned, not one to be so easily influenced by the opinions of others, however in this case my heart sank at his hurtful comment. I tried to focus purely on my irritation towards him, but couldn't help feeling a little disappointed at him ignoring me. Although it made me overwhelmingly uncomfortable at the time, I realised I liked the attention he gave me. Just yesterday we had kissed on the balcony, his arms wrapped around me as if I were the only thing in this world he wanted, but now he didn't even look at me.

I hated myself for being so sentimental.

* * *

A few more days passed and I barely saw him- although my health was more or less returned to normal, I was still completely ignored on the rare occasions we were ever in the same room together. Sebastian seemed to have noticed the unusual tension, and would often shoot me questioning or apologetic looks, although I sensed he felt the distance was probably for the best. Even I had tried to convince myself that this was my opportunity to break away from this unhealthy attraction I had formed, but now it was harder than ever. The more he ignored me the more I craved his attention.

I was awake early, and padded down the corridor to the kitchen sleepily, brushing my tousled hair out of my face as I walked. I heard no one approach, but my stomach dropped as if I had missed a step when a low, silky voice echoed behind me.

"Bambi."

My heart was pulsing heavily as he addressed me directly for the first time in 5 days, and sped even more as I spun around to face him. He looked startlingly different- not the usual expensive suit, or even casual designer clothing- he was wearing jeans and trainers that didn't suit him at all, with a white v-neck and grey jacket. What caught my eye the most was a union jack baseball cap and earphones draped around his neck.

He looked distinctly more recognisable, however, as a familiar smirk spread across his face at my look of astonishment.

"What-?" I frowned at him, unable to get my head around the strange new look.

"I've got a big day planned." He smiled. "This-" He gestured to his attire-"is all part of the act."

I was still confused, "What are you doing?"

He ignored my question, striding towards me confidently, placing a hand on my waist and leaning down to kiss me in one swift movement. I was taken aback by the sudden intimacy after days of being ignored, but found myself kissing back eagerly as I felt my back come into contact with the wall. The embrace was intense but short-lived, as he pulled away gently to face me.

"I'm going to be gone for a little while." He told me, the red and white cap looking absurd framing his glinting, black eyes.

"Why?" I asked.

He smiled, "You'll see."

I realised my arms were still wrapped around his neck, but I couldn't bring myself to let go.

"I'll miss you." He murmured, "Will you miss me?"

I nodded solemnly, wishing it wasn't true.

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips and he licked them, before pressing them to mine once more. This time I was ready, and pulled the hat off his head gently to tangle my fingers in his hair. My head spun as his hands gripped me tightly, first on my waist, then on the small of my back, my neck, my hair- I couldn't place where I ended and he began.

I was so preoccupied I didn't even notice the front door opening a few meters from us and Sebastian entering until he spoke.

"We need to leave."

I jumped and withdrew my hands from Moriarty's hair, blushing furiously. He, however, stayed exactly where he was, one hand on my waist and the other holding the back of my neck, and turned his head to face Sebastian, raising his eyebrows.

"We need to be running on schedule." Sebastian added expressionlessly.

There was a tense moment of silence before Moriarty released me from his grip and bent down to pick his hat up off the floor. He brushed it down and shot me a dark look before striding out of the apartment ahead of Sebastian.

"Keep an eye on the news." He called to me, "You'll be seeing me sooner than you think."


	20. Chapter 20

I did as I was told, flicking the tv onto the news as soon as they left and keeping it in the background for most of the morning while I made myself some brunch. I kept an ear open for the sound of the tv in the lounge, but seeing as I didn't actually know what I was listening for I was having trouble. How would I know what was Moriarty? Was he planning something public, or anonymous? If it was something illegal he wouldn't be careless enough to be identified. I began to develop a sinking feeling, what if he was going to hurt someone, kill them? From the encounter at the pool I had learnt people had died as a result of one of Moriarty's master plans, but what if he took it too far? Questions were whirring around my head as I waited anxiously for some kind of information, almost forgetting to eat my French toast and bacon.

I finally tore myself away from the tv to go to the bathroom, and on return to the living room my mouth dropped slightly.

 _Breaking News: Thief attempts to steal crown jewels this morning, discovered at the scene of the crime/ Major breaches of security in the Bank of England and Pentonville Prison has baffled police..._

I stood silently for a few moments- if I had been waiting for a sign, this was it.

I sat down as my heart began to pound; this source was raising more questions than answers. He'd been caught? Is that what he meant by being gone for a while? How long was 'a while'- 20 years in prison? I needed to get hold of Sebastian, to find out what was going on, but there was no phone in the apartment- my own had been taken months ago- so I had no contact with the outside world. I thought frantically of what to do- until a thought struck me- Moriarty's study. I had only ever been in there once, but I remembered various electrical devices present on the desk.

I walked down the corridor reluctantly- if he ever found out I had been in his study when he wasn't there I expected the consequences would be unpleasant, but he wasn't here. He wasn't coming back for a while, and I needed to know how long for. I tried the door handle, half expecting it to be locked, but it swung open easily. I stepped inside, taking care to be quiet despite being the only one in the apartment. Sure enough, two computer monitors sat on the desk, as well as a tablet and a half empty packet of chewing gum. I sat in the seat and carefully examined the devices-the tablet was password protected, but when I moved the mouse both monitors lit up immediately.

One displayed some kind of CCTV footage, of what looked like an old fashioned apartment. Who was Moriarty watching? My thoughts suddenly rushed to my sister with a sense of panic, but this wasn't her and Tom's apartment, and far from the style of anything they would ever move into. I watched it for a while, distracted from my mission temporarily, but there were no signs of life, so I diverted my attention to the second screen. This was open on the internet, a row of tabs open at the top on sites I didn't recognise, apart from the BBC news. I clicked on it and scrolled through the top headlines, immediately spotting the security scandal of the crown jewels. There was a video link- a reporter describing the events of the morning. I leant forward as I watched, my stomach lurching as they cut to a clip of a smirking, dark haired man being escorted from the scene and put into a police car. Jim. For a brief moment all my concern vanished and a small hysterical laugh escaped my lips. He had actually tried to steal the crown jewels, and nearly succeeded by the sounds of it, not the mention the security breach in the Bank of England and Pentonville Prison which just happened to occur simultaneously to the attempted robbery. I had to admit I was impressed.

I was scrolling through the story when I heard noise coming from down the corridor- someone was coming though the front door. I frantically got out of the seat and walked over to the door, listening for any sound on the other side. All had gone quiet, so I opened the door carefully and peered around, facing Sebastian. He had just come in the front door and was staring down the corridor at me, eyebrows raised.

"Don't tell Jim." The words rushed out of my mouth.

"I won't," He replied, "tell Jim." He added slowly, a slight questioning tone at my referring to him by his first name. I was a little taken aback by it myself, but it had just slipped out.

"Where is he?" I asked, walking down the corridor towards him, "What's going on, Sebastian? He got caught, what's going to happen?"

"The trial's next month." He answered, "If he's found guilty he's looking at upwards of 25 years, he's at the police station now."

My heart sank- 25 years. In 25 years I would lose him, he would be at least 60 when he came out. My mouth hung open slightly as I tried to come to terms with all the emotions I was feeling- above all the fear and disbelief, I was furious with him. 'I'll be gone for a little while' he had told me, knowing full well he was abandoning me for a significant period of my life, and his. Was this all a joke to him?

"How?" I demanded, "How could he do that to me? He can't just get himself locked up for 25 years with no warning, what am I supposed to do? What-"

Sebastian cut me off, "Woah, shut up a second. I said if he's found guilty."

"And?" I almost shouted, "He was found at the scene of the crime, _wearing_ the crown jewels, the report said they had CCTV footage and everything! How is he going to get out of that? No Lawyer is good enough to get him out of that!"

"Amelia." He said firmly, silencing me. "He won't be found guilty."

"How do you know?" I asked, eyes wide.

"Just trust me on this. Trust Jim."

He was asking me to trust Jim Moriarty. Yeah, right.


	21. Chapter 21

The next 6 weeks were slow and incredibly boring. I was alone in the apartment most of the time- Jim was being detained at the police station until his trial- and Sebastian only visited occasionally to check on me or pick things up. When my initial blind fury faded, it was only replaced by a constant worry- Sebastian had guaranteed Jim would be found not guilty, but I couldn't picture a reality where that was possible. I considered all my options- I could try to make a break for it now, a clean break while Moriarty was safely locked up would be the most practical, or I could wait until the trial to decide whether to go back to my ordinary life void of the man who had turned it inside out, or settle for weekly visits with him for the next 25 years.

There were three days until the trial- I had been counting- when Sebastian entered the flat again to pick up his rucksack which had been left in the corridor by the front door. I jumped up when I heard the key turning in the lock and came out into the corridor to face him as he entered.

"I want to come to the trial." I told him, with as much authority as I could muster. I had been considering it for days and had decided I needed to be there when they gave the verdict, whatever the outcome. I was determined to be kept in the loop, for once.

"You can't." He replied curtly.

My heart sank.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"You're still a missing person remember? How do you hope to explain your disappearance for months before turning up to the trial of a suddenly notorious criminal?"

"No one will recognise me." I argued.

"I can't take that risk."

I scowled.

"It will all be over quickly, you're underestimating Jim." He assured me.

"How is he going to get out of it then? How can you be so sure?" I asked him, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Details are unimportant, only the result matters. He'll be found not guilty."

There was a pause while Sebastian leant down and picked up his rucksack.

"Well you have to keep me posted then, call me whenever you can, I need to know everything as soon as it happens."

Sebastian looked at me and raised his eyebrows, clearly unappreciative of my demanding tone. I bit my lip and tightened my arms around myself, Sebastian wasn't confrontational, but he wouldn't be pushed around.

"I'll call you." He said finally, "When I can."

He delved into his rucksack and pulled out a smart phone- brand new by the looks of it- and handed it to me.

"You can't make calls from it, so don't even try anything. I'm the only one who has this number. It won't connect to the internet."

I took it silently and turned it over in my hands, was this coincidence or another meticulous detail already considered by Moriarty?

"I won't be back before the trial." He went on, "It starts at 9, they're calling one witness against; we're calling none. It won't take long."

 _None?_ I thought _, how is he going to have any chance with no defence?_

He turned to order, "Stop worrying." Before striding out of the door and locking it behind him.

* * *

I woke early on the morning of the trial, well before the alarm I had set for myself to make sure I didn't sleep through it. I had exploited every feature of my new phone out of boredom, but calculators and stopwatches could only be entertaining for so long.

I wandered around the apartment, waiting to hear reports of the trial on the tv, which I now had constantly tuned on the news out of habit. There was mention of it from about 7:30, and by 8 multiple reporters were gathered around the courthouse, all ensuring the public that for a crime so grandiose the sentence would be dire and almost inevitable.

I watched intently as the minutes counted down to 9, but no information could be given from outside the trial so I was in the dark until my phone buzzed at 11. I answered halfway through the first ring.

"What's happened?"

Sebastian's voice was calm, bored even, "Their witness got arsey, he's been banned from the courtroom so it's been delayed a few hours."

"Who is their witness?" I asked.

"Sherlock Holmes."

That surprised me.

"Him? Why?"

"Character witness, the police trust him, for some reason." Sebastian said.

I considered this for a moment; as far as I knew, Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty had only met face to face on two occasions- one where Holmes wasn't even aware of Moriarty's true identity, and another lasting about 10 minutes in total. They didn't have much to go on, but Moriarty made a point of remaining elusive to all those he worked with, with the exception of people who would be dead in the next 24 hours and me.

"I'll call you when we get the verdict." Sebastian told me when I didn't answer, before hanging up the phone. He seemed incredibly assured, but I still wasn't entirely convinced. Moriarty was intelligent and meticulous, but 25 years of his life was too big a gamble for the sake of showing off in my opinion. I tried not to think about how this situation had been affecting me for the past 6 weeks- he was my captor, and his presence in my life shouldn't have been such an essential need. He was far from making me feel safe, but he made me feel complete.

I waited impatiently for a second phone call as the news reported the 'famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes' being removed from the courtroom despite being called as an important character witness in the trial of James Moriarty.

I thought about Sherlock- before being abducted I couldn't say I had heard of him, but I had a feeling he was a particularly important figure in Moriarty's line of work, or at least line of interest. It was rather unlike Moriarty to take such an intense interest in another human being, with the exception of me, and I wondered what about Mr Holmes was so special.

3 more hours passed and I couldn't keep still- this was the most anxious I had been when not actually in the presence of Moriarty since I had been here. I picked the skin off my lip with my teeth until it bled and drummed my fingers of the arm of the sofa, staring at the screen of my phone until it finally lit up with a text message;

 _Waiting for the Jury- they'll be 10 minutes max. I'll call you with the verdict within the half hour._

 _SM_

10 minutes? I wasn't the expert in courtroom etiquette, but that didn't seem like a realistic amount of time. I drummed my fingers twice as violently and counted 8 minutes when my phone buzzed again.

"Sebastian?" I demanded as I answered, my voice breaking halfway through his name.

"Not guilty." His voice was relaxed, but I could hear the hint of a smirk in it.

I felt as if all the air in my body left me at once and I was silent for a few moments as I summoned enough breath to answer.

"Jesus Christ."

Sebastian sniggered, "I did warn you. Don't worry for Jim, Amelia, worry for those around him."

"Okay." It sounded like a question. He hung up the phone and I put it down beside me, exhaling deeply and running my hands through my hair- not guilty. I actually began giggling at the absurdity of it- the police must be absolutely infuriated. Jim was playing with them, handing himself over on a silver platter only to escape from their grasp when they were so sure they had him. In short he was a show-off, and now the entire world knew what he was capable of.

My phone buzzed again and I picked it up, expecting another message from Sebastian.

 _Impressed? Of course you are. I'll be back late, wait up for me._

 _JM x_

* * *

It was quarter to 11 when I heard the key turn in the lock and steady footsteps coming down the corridor to the living room- I had been dozing on the sofa under a black satin blanket with a rich smell of cologne. A long shadow crept up the doorframe before the figure of Moriarty stepped into the room. He was wearing a light grey suit and a smirk that was so self-assured it almost hurt to look at- part of me wanted to run up and hug him, but seconds later I realised what an absurd notion that was.

"You didn't think I could do it could you?" He asked, strolling towards the sofa with his hands in his pockets.

I shrugged, "25 years is a long time."

"So it is." He agreed, "That's what makes it all so exciting."

"How did you do it?" I asked, doubting getting a straight answer, but my curiosity was too much.

"No more questions."

"I only asked one." I argued.

He rolled his eyes. "I know that, doofus. One is too many."

I frowned, "Okay."

"Now it's my turn. " He was towering over me now, "What exactly were you doing snooping around in my study while I was away?"

"I-" I was caught short.

"Oh yes, Sebastian told me. He works for me, not you, Amelia."

I dropped my eyes, "I-I needed to know, what was going on... you were arrested, I mean, You didn't tell me anything! How was I supposed to know? Did you expect me to just sit around here not knowing?" I demanded, becoming angrier by the second.

"Woah, " He held his hands up, "Don't bite my head off...or break my neck." He added with a sly smile.

I scowled.

He licked his lips and reached forward to grab my arm, pulling me up so that I was standing facing him, swaying slightly with the sudden movement.

"If I ever find out you've been looking through my things again, I will _end_ you." He said quietly, our faces inches apart.

I licked my lips, echoing him.

"Will you?"

He looked at me for a long time, before grabbing my arm again and dragging me down the corridor towards his bedroom. My head was spinning, what now? Was this what I had been anticipating? I could never tell with Jim, he was so...changeable.

He twisted me around and pushed me onto the bed, sliding on top of me while holding the majority of his weight on his elbows. He stared down at me, and I worried he could actually hear my heart pounding with a mixture of thrill and fear in the small gap between our chests.

He leant down slowly to kiss my neck delicately, the weight of his body lowering onto me slightly as I placed my hands on his waist, gripping the silky fabric of his suit jacket. His lips moved from under my jaw down to my collar bone skilfully, before he raised his head to look at me again- his dilated pupils barely visible within his dark eyes.

"Do not underestimate my indifference to you, Amelia." He told me softly, placing another light kiss on the other side of my neck.

"I enjoy your company," He went on, pausing to kiss me between each statement, "You're a distraction... You're not quite ordinary... but you're not quite _me."_

He was contradicting his own words as soon as he said them, and if he was trying to deter me, it wasn't working. Jim Moriarty was extraordinary, something more than a man, and if he wanted me to be a distraction, that's what I would be.

"No one ever gets to me," He said, echoing the words I had heard him tell Sherlock at the pool, "And no one ever will."

"I don't need to get to you." I answered, holding his gaze as he paused to listen, "You already got to me."


	22. Chapter 22

_**A/N:** Okay just wanted to say something about my story, I've had a review which brought up some points I wanted to address, firstly that my OC is a weak female character dependant on the male lead- while I strongly agree that strong and independent female characters should be represented in stories, I also think that all variety of female characters should be represented just as equally, and there shouldn't be a pressure on female characters to always be strong as that is not always the case in real life. A second point is that her interests etc revolve around Moriarty, but this is very much the point of my story. A common theme I find in Moriarty/OC characters is him 'meeting his match', 'falling in love' or being overpowered by a female character, and while I'm not criticising this at all, it's just not what I wanted for my own story, as I think it takes away from his character a little bit, as what makes him so scary and interesting as a character is that you don't know what's going on in his head. I wanted my story to be about Moriarty from my OC's point of view. Hope that clears some things up, as always thanks for reading x_

My knee ached as I stretched my leg out of the fetal position I was curled up in, silky sheets brushing against it. I could sense the early morning sun warming my eyelids, but refrained from opening them for a few more moments as I slipped into consciousness- pushing my face deeper into the downy white pillow. I inhaled a waft of cologne deeply before a sudden feeling of déjà vu caused my eyes to snap open.

My heart began to pound suddenly as I realised I wasn't in my bed- my surroundings belonged to a room I had only seen the inside of on a handful of occasions.

"Wakey wakey." A low voice drawled on the other side of me.

I twisted to see Moriarty, fully dressed, straightening his suit in a full length mirror on the other side of the bed.

My mind was racing as I tried to grasp onto my memories of the night before- I had been in restless sleep, and trying to decipher what had actually happened and what I had dreamt was proving difficult. He had told me he was indifferent, but we had kissed, I had woken in the night with his arms wrapped around me, or had I? And did we kiss again?

He was watching me concentrate smugly, "I'd best be off, Bambi. Enjoy your day."

He paused at the doorway to add, "You were sensational, by the way." Before winking and leaving me, still tangled in the sheets.

My heart dropped at his words, what was he talking about? Nothing...major had happened, I would have remembered it. I became more confident at what had been real the more I reassured myself- he had kissed me for a long time, stared at me for even longer, trailing his fingers over my skin as we lay in silence, before I had drifted out of consciousness. He was just teasing me. The rest of the night wasn't so clear, I thought I remembered waking in the night to find the bed empty beside me, and waking again with Jim's arm curled over my body, but both were foggy. Not to mention how unlikely the latter sounded- physical affection didn't seem to be Jim's thing unless it was making a statement or the second party uncomfortable.

I suddenly realised that he had left me alone in his bedroom- his personal space- without any kind of supervision. I could look through anything without him knowing, unless he had hidden cameras installed. It didn't seem too far-fetched. I decided to return to my own room before I was too tempted to explore the contents of the black oak bedside cabinet, and had climbed out of the bed when I heard footsteps coming down the corridor. They were heavy and rhythmic, not light and drawn out like Moriarty's. I stopped where I stood- not wanting Sebastian to find me in Jim's bedroom wearing clothes I had clearly slept in from the night before. The steps passed the corridor and entered the lounge stopping just short of the kitchen by my judgement. I crept around the door and began carefully down the corridor back to my room- hoping he hadn't already checked there and would think that's where I had been all along.

"We're training today." He called out, apparently not fooled by my attempt to go unnoticed.

I winced, "I didn't hear you come in, I was in my room." I lied hopefully.

"I don't care where you slept, Amelia."

I paused, "What-?"

"I know you weren't in your room. You don't have to lie, where you choose to spend the night isn't part of my job."

I didn't know how to respond.

"Get ready." He filled the silence.

I nodded and made my way to my room- I had to admit, the prospect of getting back into training came as quite appealing today- I needed to be in control of something. Before it had been temporarily halted due to Sebastian's busy schedule, I had actually been getting better at shooting, and the better I got the more I enjoyed it. Sebastian would tell me to let my mind go blank, which was a welcome relief from the thoughts which usually filled it. When we got to the training centre, however, I was not lead to the usual shooting room, but another section filled with mats and various weaponry mounted on one wall. Physical training. Sebastian had warned me it would begin as soon as my leg was adequately healed, but I hadn't been particularly looking forward to it. Learning theory and using long range weapons was one thing, but hands-on self defence was another.

Sebastian dropped his bag in one corner of the room and turned to look me up and down.

"You need to change."

I glanced down at my attire of designer boyfriend jeans and black t shirt- my wardrobe had a high item turnover, and I constantly looked in it to find old things gone and replaced with new ones, all of which fitted and flattered perfectly. During regular training my clothes didn't really matter, but now I was thrown a string bag of clothing.

"There's a changing room through there." Sebastian gestured to a door on the opposite side of the room. I found it and took the clothes out of the bag, turning them over in my hands begrudgingly before undressing and slipping them on- skin tight black leggings, black trainers and a cropped black top. I eyed my reflection in a full length mirror before hesitantly making my way back into the training room. Sebastian had taken off his jacket to reveal a long sleeved black t shirt and black combat trousers, this worried me a little- he didn't possibly expect me to defend myself against him? He was tall, powerfully built, and the tight black t shirt only exposed his muscular frame even more.

I bit my lip.

"You've got to start your proper physical training." He told me, "Being able to use a gun isn't good enough, you'll be a hindrance if I have to keep an eye on you all the time."

I nodded.

"We'll start with the simple stuff, you already know your basic defence if it comes down to it-" I recalled the incident involving my putting my knowledge of breaking bones into practice resentfully "-but you need to be more efficient. If anyone is trying to hurt you they're not always going to be tied to a chair, you need to know how to defend yourself in any situation."

"You need to learn what your strengths are and how to use them." He went on, "You're okay with a gun, use one if the opportunity arises. If not, do not try to overpower anyone with strength, you're not built for it, you need to focus on being agile and using your initiative- those will be your strengths. Find your opponent's weakness, and use it against them in any way that you are capable of."

"Okay." I said slowly.

"First I need to know where you're at." He dropped his arms down by his sides. "Attack me."

I stared at him.

"You can't be serious."

"Do it."

"Are you trying to humiliate me or something?" I demanded.

"No." He answered, sounding exasperated, "I need to know what you are already capable of so I know exactly what to train you on. The only way I can know that is to see you in action."

I took a deep breath and looked him up and down, trying to figure out a pressure point- he was huge, and no part of him seemed any more vulnerable than the other. I decided to wing it, and leapt forward to aim a punch in the stomach, which he avoided effortlessly. I tried again, slamming my arm against his chest before aiming a kick to his kneecap, which he stepped away from and swept one leg under me to send me crashing to the floor.

I scowled up at him, "I have no chance, you're so much stronger than me."

"It has nothing to do with strength." He told me, "I'm defending myself using pure strategy, as you should be."

I got to my feet and thought about his words, pure strategy was easier said than done- he had no weaknesses, his entire body was solid muscle, no piercings to rip out, no previous injuries to target.

I made a few more futile attempts, which he dodged or deflected, before I tried to twist his arm around his back and he twisted my entire body instead, shoving me towards the wall. I stumbled a little and leant my arm on it while I caught my breath. Weaknesses. I had to use my initiative, he must have one. I looked up to see my hand was a few inches from a weapon mounted on the wall- a small butterfly knife. I considered this for a second, I wasn't allowed to use weapons, was I? By whatever means I am capable of, Sebastian said, find your opponent's weakness. He wouldn't be expecting me to cheat, he underestimated me- that was his weakness.

I grabbed the knife and spun round to leap towards him, reaching out with my left hand which he deflected while I plunged the small blade into his shoulder.

He swore loudly and pushed me away with one hand, grabbing the hilt of the knife with the other and inspecting the wound.

I stepped away slowly, wary of his reaction.

He glared up at me, "You cheated."

"I didn't know there were rules." I replied.

He grabbed a first aid kit, pulled the blade out of his shoulder and wrapped up the wound, twisting his arm around in the socket to test it was still just as agile.

"Well you've got the gist. Just try to turn it down a notch, we're only training, yeah?" He still sounded irritated.

With that, his phone buzzed.

"Hello?"

I recognised the tone of Moriarty's voice on the other end of the phone but couldn't hear exactly what he was saying.

"Yes...I'm at the training centre...Yes...She just stabbed me." Sebastian shot me a look which only darkened as I heard Moriarty erupt into laughter.

"Yes...Okay." Sebastian answered when Moriarty had stopped laughing and handed me the phone.

"He wants to talk to you."

I took the phone and held it up to my ear.

"My, my, Bambi we really need to get your little anger issues under control." He seemed to be trying not to laugh as he spoke.

"I wasn't angry." I replied.

"Oooooooh, cold and calculated; even better."

I scowled, he was mocking me.

"How badly hurt is my sniper?" He asked.

"Not badly, I got his shoulder with a butterfly knife."

This made him laugh again, "My god, you are adorable. I can't believe I wasn't there to see it."

"It wasn't spectacular." I assured him.

"Just spectacularly funny." I could hear him chewing. "Anyway, tell Sebastian I'll see him tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your training." He hung up the phone before I could reply and handed it back to Sebastian.

He put it away in his bag before turning back to me.

"I guess we better start with knives then."


	23. Chapter 23

The training was difficult- I had learnt a little about knives in my theory training, but actually using them had been more challenging than I expected. There was a variety mounted on the wall, all of which had different functions, which I was drilled on before beginning handling them. None were particularly large, so as to be carried discreetly and used easily- a weapon actually well suited to me.

The butterfly knife was my favourite, and I took to flicking it back and forth in my hands while Sebastian spoke, practicing bouncing it off my forearm and thigh as I spun it around.

"This isn't a circus, Amelia." Sebastian would say irritably, but later decided, "As you seem so taken with that weapon in particular we may as well focus on it, as far as knives go most people only specialise in one."

He took a similar knife off the wall and flicked it around in his hands so fast the blade was just a sliver blur- he flicked it between both hands, on both forearms, and even tossed it in the air and caught it again, still spinning. I was temporarily mesmerised before glowering at him and crossing my arms.

"This isn't a circus, Sebastian."

* * *

I was exhausted by the time we got home- sporting a variety of small cuts on both hands which resulted from getting a little too confident while handling the knives. Sebastian had daubed them with some kind of clear liquid which stung angrily but left them exposed.

I entered the apartment alone- Sebastian now trusted me enough to drop me outside the building and make my own way upstairs. Jim was already home, sitting back in the sofa with one arm draped over the side, he was wearing a navy suit, hair immaculately gelled back in his usual fashion.

He looked up as I entered and his face broke into an amused smirk.

"There's my little Uma Thurman."

I frowned, and he gestured for me to join him on the sofa.

I walked over and sat next to him, bringing my knees up to my chest and leaning into him slightly, inhaling his expensive cologne. He was texting swiftly with his left hand and didn't look up from his phone as he spoke.

"I've got a meeting with some associates later tonight, you're coming with me. "

"Where are we going?" I asked, in my past experiences associate meetings could be a bit hit and miss.

He smirked, "Go and get ready. I got you a little gift, it's in your bedroom."

He glanced up at me slyly as I got up of the sofa to do as I was told. I walked briskly down the corridor to my bedroom, feeling anticipation and a little bit of fear at the prospect of him getting me some kind of 'gift'.

I opened the door to find the room entirely undisturbed apart from a new dress layed out on the bed with a small rectangular box sat on top of it, tied with a black ribbon. I ignored the dress and grabbed the box- it looked like some kind of jewellery box, only larger and fairly heavy- and untied the ribbon clumsily to pull the lid off.

Inside the black velvet lining a sparkling sliver butterfly knife was suspended. I would have scowled at Moriarty's dry humour if I wasn't so mesmerised by the knife- it was oddly beautiful- metal almost seamlessly crafted together in a mixture of glistening silver and jet black, with what looked like a tiny black diamond encrusted in the hilt. I took it out carefully- it was lighter than I expected, balancing in my hand easily and flicking around my wrist effortlessly. How had he got hold of this so quickly? Presumably it was hand-made, and it was only a few hours ago that Sebastian had informed him about the stabbing incident. I had a shower and put some make up on before slipping into the new dress. It was white- just above knee length- with a high neck and plunging back. I twisted my hair up and chose a pair of black stilettos with red soles, glancing at myself in the full length mirror before walking back into the living room. Jim was gone, but as I peered around into the kitchen I heard a low whistle behind me.

"I always knew I had good taste."

I turned and raised my eyebrows at him questioningly.

"In fashion of course," He rolled his eyes. "Come on, the car's waiting."

He escorted me out of the apartment and into the car- there was a screen between the backseat and driver's section so I couldn't tell if Sebastian was driving us or not- and the car pulled away. We were sat at opposite ends of the back seat, but as I stared out of the tinted windows I felt Jim moving beside me.

I turned to look at him, "You've not got your seatbelt on."

He chuckled, dropping his eyes down to my own as he pushed the button and it released with a click.

"OOPS!" He exclaimed in a sing-song voice as it sprung up past me and back into the hole in the back seat.

I scowled, shifted in my seat and leant back against the inside of the car door- he was sat halfway across the seat, leaning towards me slightly.

"While we're living life on the edge," He licked his lips and glanced down at our seatbelts, or lack thereof, "We may as well just keep on being naughty."

I raised my eyebrows as he leant in further towards me, "This is pretty tame by your standards."

He paused, eyes darkening.

"I'm too tame for you now, am I?" He spoke slowly, his voice low. "Am I getting boring, Amelia?"

I bit my lip- clearly I had said the wrong thing. He was watching me, cold eyes unblinking as I tried to figure out the best reply to dissolve the tension.

"ANSWER ME!" He demanded suddenly, the sudden raise in his voice causing me to jump in my seat.

"No, you're not boring." I answered quietly.

He considered my answer for a moment. "That's what I thought."

He leant away for a moment and looked away from me, but the tension was still present as I waited nervously for his next response. Seconds later, his lips found mine. He leant across my body, one hand resting on my thigh and the other planted on the tinted window behind my head as he kissed me with an urgency. I could barely keep up with him. His hand moved up to my waist to grip me firmly and pull me closer as he forced my mouth open hungrily and another hand took hold of the nape of my neck. I couldn't tell if this was scaring me- our previous intimate encounters were often intense and unpredictable, but now there was something more. The tension between us was making my ears ring- he was kissing me without the usual awareness he possessed, as if the madness within I had seen glimpses of before had entirely take over his being.

I couldn't keep track of his hands as they moved over my body, holding me roughly as his fingernails dug into my skin. I took the opportunity to do the same, feeling my way over the hard lines of his biceps and down his slim chest while me pushed me down onto my back across the seat, sliding on top of me. I could feel the friction of our clothes rubbing together trapped between our bodies, and pushed him up to slide off his suit jacket, which he discarded on the floor before leaning down to continue kissing me relentlessly, hands moving up along my waist to my chest for the first time, one hand lingering there while the other held the side of my neck. He pulled away to begin kissing it, moving down to my collar bone and yanking the fabric of my dress out of the way so that he could bite the skin on my neck hard enough to leave a mark.

My mind was racing- everything was happening so fast I almost wished he would slow down, but the further he went the further I wanted him to go. I carefully slid my legs up to wrap them around his waist, gripping tightly as the car turned a corner and we both nearly slid right off the backseat. He reached one arm around me, sliding it between my body and the seat to pull down the zip on the back of the dress, mouth still on my neck. I helped him pull the fabric down to my hips, and his eyes moved briefly over my exposed body before he easily undid the top button of his trousers. My heart was pounding- this was it. This was actually happening. It shouldn't have been, but I pushed that thought from my mind as he slid down the zip to expose the hem of his designer underwear. His eyes were locked with mine, flat black, and the familiar smirk crept back onto his face as he regained a moment of control.

I barely noticed when the car came to a halt, but Jim paused and suddenly threw his jacket over my body seconds before the door behind me opened and his driver stood for a few seconds, looking taken aback. Jim simply looked mildly irritated, and didn't move from his position on top of me as he addressed the driver.

"You couldn't have driven a bit slower?"

I dropped my eyes as the driver struggled to find an answer, before simply deciding to shut the door again.

Moriarty looked down at me and made a false grimace "Red handed."

A hysterical giggle escaped my lips as he climbed off me, taking back his suit jacket and sliding it back on.

"Come on, we're late." He glanced down at me as I tried to collect my thoughts, "And Amelia, try to make it look like I didn't just nearly fuck you in the back of a car. It's dreadfully unprofessional."


	24. Chapter 24

I did my best to follow his instructions, climbing into the front seat to adjust my hair and makeup in the rear view mirror, but still had a flustered expression I couldn't seem to shake off. Moriarty, on the other hand, had managed to re-gel back his tousled hair and straighten his suit perfectly in a matter of 2 minutes. He was so calm- the crazed look that had fogged over his eyes ten minutes ago had cleared-leaving them clear and still as pools of water.

"Who are we meeting?" I asked him as we strode down a labyrinth of modern office corridors.

"I'm planning something." He replied, not answering my question.

"Planning what?"

He raised his eyebrows and smirked, "Well aren't you just little-miss-impatient today?"

I scowled at him.

"That expression doesn't become you, my dear. Now keep quiet and let me do the talking."

I nodded as we paused outside a black oak door.

"Don't look so scared, Bambi." He told me, snaking a hand around my waist, "You're with me, and I'm always the most dangerous person in the room."

Oddly, that made me feel a little better.

He pushed open the door and we entered a huge room with a long table in the centre, the chairs filled with unknown people until about half way down, with the top seat left empty at the far end.

The chatter fell silent as he led me past the table and towards the empty chair; thankfully all eyes were too transfixed on him to pay any attention to me. Jim pulled out the chair that had obviously been saved for him, while glancing briefly at the person sat in the seat to his left.

"Move." He said simply.

They quickly clambered out of the seat and made their way down to the next available one halfway down the table. He gestured the now empty seat to me, and sat in his own only after I had sat down awkwardly.

"SO." He clapped his hands together loudly, making the majority of people at the table jump.

"As you all know I've planned everything out already," He continued, "It is IMPERATIVE that everything goes as it is supposed to so naturally the only way to ensure this was designing the entire operation myself. All you lot have to do is _try_ not to mess up the small task you have been individually assigned."

No one spoke, and I glanced down the table to notice Sebastian was stood in one corner of the room. I tried to catch his eye but he was watching Jim carefully.

"We'll start with Hansel and Gretel." A smirk pulled up the corner of Moriarty's lips and he reached his hand out in Sebastian's direction, palm upturned. Sebastian handed him one of a handful of files he was holding, and Jim passed it to a man sat on the right of him. This pattern went on for the next 30 minutes of the meeting- Jim referring to strange code-names and distributing files of his plans to different people sat around the table, instructing that they learn the plans inside out and destroy the files within the next 24 hours. The final one was 'Operation Richard Brook', which he handed to a woman sat a few chairs down on the side opposite me. She didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the company- probably in her early thirties, with red hair and what looked like her best work suit on, though it looked considerably cheap and nasty in comparison to some of the other attire around the table, namely Moriarty, Sebastian and I.

She took the file and shuffled through the papers inside.

"My portfolio is in there." Moriarty told her, "The DVD, the photos. Keep it in the flat. It's ready for you to move in, make sure you keep up with the bills, pay the rent, do not draw attention to yourself. My 'belongings'," He made a speech mark gesture with his fingers, "Are already there."

"Okay..." She said slowly, a slightly worried expression on her face as she continued to look through the papers- this did not go unnoticed by Jim.

"Miss Riley." He addressed her in a low voice, "You will not back out now. If you do anything _stupid_ to blow this operation, I'll see to it you're buried with Sherlock Holmes. Alive."

The room was uncomfortably quiet, and as I glanced around the table I saw that everyone was avoiding the gaze of everyone else in the room, except Moriarty, who was now scanning the table with a look of amusement. I caught his eye and raised a questioning eyebrow- I had suspected all along that this 'plan' of Jim's revolved around his usual muse, Sherlock Holmes, but was till unsure as to what exactly he was trying to achieve with this one. An assassination? That seemed a little too...easy. Holmes was Moriarty's favourite toy, I couldn't see him ending it all without having some more fun first.

He stuck his tongue out at me in reply.

"As for the final problem." He went on, "Contrary to urban legend my dear Sebastian Moran cannot, in fact, be in 3 places at once so I'm going to need two additional snipers. Moran will cover the most important target, Dr Watson, he will assign the remaining two between you."

His eyes fell on two men sat at the far end of the table- one was almost as large as Sebastian, who held himself in a way that made me suspect he had a military background, the other was smaller, with a shaved head and stoic expression.

The larger one spoke- "You said this is a conditional contract, we may not be needed on the occasion?"

"Correct." Moriarty replied.

"So..." He frowned. "How likely is it that we'll actually be needed?"

"Oh it's entirely unlikely. If I know Sherlock Holmes, and believe me I do, you won't have to lift a finger. If he doesn't do as I tell him I'll shoot John Watson myself."

I bit my lip- that nagging sensation was stirring in my brain again. Dr John Watson. There was a familiarity to that name I couldn't shake off.

Moriarty's eyes flickered over to me as if he could sense what I was thinking and I dropped my gaze guiltily. I didn't have any ill feeling towards Sherlock Holmes or John Watson- if anything I just felt sorry for them- but I supposed I would have to learn not to empathise with Moriarty's victims. I was conflicted enough as it was.

"Well I believe that's everything; if anyone has any questions they can bore Sebastian with them." Jim stood up and a few members of the table stiffened at his sudden movement.

"Amelia." As he addressed me a few curious eyes met my gaze, but I ignored them and followed him across the room, smirking slightly despite myself.

I walked in step with him down the corridor, considering which questions I wanted answering first.

"What exactly are you going to do to Sherlock Holmes?" I wondered to him, glancing to the side to catch the glint in his eye he saved for the consulting detective.

"You still don't know?"

"Well you didn't actually say explicitly." I said defensively.

He sighed, "That's the trouble with you, Amelia. Everything always has to be explicit."

I could feel the colour creeping into my cheeks and felt my stomach twist as I recalled the car journey on the way here. I shook the thought from my mind.

"So? Are you going to tell me?"

Moriarty licked his lips, "I'm going to talk to him. And he's going to kill himself."

My heart rate escalated slightly as I gazed at him, because I did not doubt he was capable of it, not even for a second.

"Why?"

He stopped and turned to look at me, "Because I can."

* * *

Jim disappeared into his office when we returned to the apartment and I didn't see him for the rest of the night. I climbed into bed early and lay awake for a few hours and thought about what Poppy would be doing right now. Alone in my room was the only time I allowed myself to think about her- having any form of moral compass was nothing but self destructive when you were living alongside Jim Moriarty. I wondered if she was doing the same- lying awake in bed- the baby was probably keeping her awake. The thought made me smile, but I felt a hot tear trickle down the side on my face and onto the pillow. I didn't bother wiping it away, but let it dry there as my eyelids grew heavier and I drifted into a light sleep.

I was dreaming restlessly when I suddenly jerked awake and stared into the darkness around me. Before I could figure out what had awoken me two sets of cold hands grabbed me roughly and dragged me out of the bed. One hand clamped down on my mouth before I could scream and I reached out frantically for my butterfly knife which I kept on the bedside table, but as I was hauled away by two unknown figures I saw that it wasn't there. I struggled and twisted my wrists in their grasp to free myself, attempting to grab one of their arms in the split second I was free before the hands enclosed on me again.

Both were wearing black, with black masks leaving nothing but the eyes exposed. I wanted to scream for Jim- if he was even still in the apartment- but they dragged me out of the front door and down the stairs without interference from anyone. I thought desperately of how to escape as we approached a black car outside the building, I wasn't trained well enough to take these men down without a weapon. My knife was gone, I didn't have a gun...but they would. I wasn't armed, but my capturers could provide my escape for me. I eyed the jacket on the one to my right, spotting a bulge where he was clearly keeping his weapon. As we stopped at the car I twisted one arm free and made a grab for it, before the second man pulled me back and pinned me to the car, jabbing a needle into my arm and holding me still as the drugs worked their way into my system.

"That's...cheating..." I heard myself murmur before slipping into darkness.


	25. Chapter 25

I lurched awake in a moment of extreme disorientation and grabbed onto the armrests to both my sides as the floor moved beneath me. I looked around in confusion, trying to make sense of my surroundings- I was inside, some kind of room like a train...or an airplane. The floor was still lurching sickeningly and I squeezed my eyes shut until it settled again.

The events of the night before came back to me like a bad dream, and I had a second wave of panic as I glanced around for signs of anyone else- I was in a section of what looked like a private plane, seated in a wide chair with a small table and another seat across from me. I looked out of the window in vain- the plane was above the cloud level so I could see nothing but white. I undid my seatbelt and stood up carefully, ignoring the protests of my pounding head, and turned to walk down the aisle before someone cleared their throat behind me.

I spun around to see Jim, stood with his hands in the pockets of his dark grey suit, eyes regarding me carefully. I ran over to him before my mind could react to what my body was doing, flinging my arms around his neck and inhaling his cologne in confused relief.

He held his arms up as I clung to him, "Woah woah woah, Bambi, mind the suit. Jeeeeeesus."

I let go and he straightened his jacket, clearly unimpressed by my unexpected display of affection.

"How could you let them take me?" I demanded, "It happened in your apartment, how could you not know?"

He raised his eyebrows and gestured to my seat, "Sit down."

I did so as he took the seat opposite me and leant back into it, "Before you bombard me with further questions don't I even get a thank you?"

"Thank you for what?" I asked.

A smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth, "For whisking you away on a romantic trip."

I glanced around the private plane and realised I hadn't even considered where we were going, "This is- we're going on a...holiday?"

I couldn't get things straight in my head- one minute I'm being abducted and drugged by strangers and the next I wake up on a plane and Jim's taking me on a 'romantic trip' as if it didn't even happen?

He was just watching me in amusement.

"Wait so, what happened last night? Who were those guys?"

"Well..." He licked his lips, "I wanted this to be a surprise."

There were a few moments of silence as I realised what had actually happened.

"...It was you? You...had me kidnapped and drugged and shoved into a car to bring me here...so that it would be a surprise?"

"SURPRISE!" He exclaimed in a sing-song voice.

I took a deep breath.

"You're insane." I told him.

The smirk had spread across his entire face now, "You're just getting that now?"

* * *

It turned out I had been unconscious through the entire night and rest of the day, and sure enough the sky outside began to darken as we continued to cruise above the cloud banking. I had asked Jim where we were going, only to be scolded for being impatient. He spent the majority of the journey in the seat opposite me, brows arching over his eyes in concentration as he typed at the laptop he had set up on the table, dismissing all questions I put to him without looking away from the screen.

I sat in silence and gazed out of the window, considering my traumatic experience from the night before. The worst part of it being that it had actually been set up by the very man who I had looked to for protection, who I had actually began to trust. Only now did I realise how incredibly foolish that was- Jim had no real concern for my safety, he was keeping me around purely for his own entertainment. This served as an appropriate reminder not to become complacent.

He continued working on his laptop as the plane began to descend, while I stared down onto the city lights which grew larger as we approached the ground. It was impossible to tell what country we were in, the city was a mixture of skyscrapers and what looked like churches and cathedrals. We finally touched down smoothly and Jim looked up from his laptop as if he had only just noticed we were landing. He glanced out of his window before turning to me and allowing a grin to spread across his face.

"We're here!" He sang.

"Where?" I asked.

He shot me a dark look.

"Are you going to keep asking questions or will I have to drug you again?"

I shook my head and his smile returned. He got out of his seat, ignoring the seatbelt signs still glowing above us and held his hand out to me. I took it and followed him through a curtain to the front of the plane, two men in suits were stood on either side of the door but one opened it at Moriarty's demand.

I followed Jim out of the plane and into the bracing night air as we descended the steps onto the runway, where a sleek, dark car was waiting for us. It was freezing, and I was thankful for the expensive coat I had found placed over the back of my seat on the plane which was now keeping me snug as I climbed into the back of the car. I watched out of the window as the lights flashed by, trying to catch a glimpse of something which could indicate where we were. Jim was texting swiftly beside me, looking up as I read aloud the glowing sign in the distance, "Berlin Brandenburg Airport."

He smirked as I turned to look at him, "Berlin?"

"Problem?"

"No..." To be honest I didn't even know what I had been expecting- Moriarty didn't come across as the type of person who went on holidays, other than for business reasons. We sped along through the city before coming to a huge building with large glass doors and pulling up outside. After getting out of the car and being escorted into the lobby by Jim, flanked by the two men in suits from the plane. After checking in Jim strode swiftly into the lift and pressed the button for the top floor, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning on the rail. It was, like the rest of the hotel I had seen so far, decorated in an ornate fashion, with high ceilings, marble floors and sparkling chandeliers- "Go big or go home" as Jim had said when spotting me eyeing a huge marble bust of a Greek god in the lobby.

The two men did not follow as I followed Jim down the corridor to the door at the end, looking over his shoulder apprehensively as he opened the door and stepped into the room. It was smaller than I had been expecting- given the vast and minimalistic layout of his apartment this seemed strangely...intimate. There was a huge double bed against one wall, behind it a deep plum wallpaper framed a wide window which displayed the glowing cityscape of Berlin, and on the other side of the room was a black oak desk and ornate wardrobe. The decor and furniture was rich and expensive- a little more indulgent than the cold and monochromatic decor Moriarty usually went for.

He walked over to the bedside table where a bottle of champagne and two glasses were already waiting, picked up the bottle and turned it over in his hands, screwing his face up in disapproval at the label.

"Ew."

He proceeded to take his phone out of his pocket and dial a number, tossing the bottle onto the bed behind him.

"Hi it's me, I want two bottles of Grey Goose aaaaaand that's it. Chop chop."

He wandered over to the other side of the bed, picking up an apple from the fruit bowl on the coffee table and taking a bite out of it as he sat down. He patted the bed beside him and I went to sit down, only then noticing the suitcases in the corner of the room.

"I took the liberty of having all your stuff delivered." He smiled widely at me.

"How long are we staying for?" I asked.

"For as long as I need to be here."

Before I had time to question this, there was a knock at the door followed by a young man in uniform entering with a tray containing two large bottles of expensive vodka and two crystal glasses.

"Thanks." Moriarty muttered as he placed the tray down on the bedside table, still looking at me.

I eyed the tray suspiciously until the man had left the room, when Jim leant across the bed and opened one of the bottles, pouring some into both glasses and handing one to me. I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What?" He smirked at me, "Bambi, don't tell me you don't drink."

"I drink, just not usually straight vodka in hotel rooms in Berlin..." I replied slowly, watching him mirror me as I raised my glass and took a sip.

"On the contrary, straight vodka in hotel rooms in Berlin is the only time I drink." He answered.

We got to the bottom of the first bottle surprisingly quickly, Jim lying back on the bed flicking through the tv channels restlessly, arguing and laughing at the people on tv as he normally did. I told myself it would be my last after every glass he poured me- I was vulnerable enough in his company without adding intoxication to the mix- but still I didn't object to each new drink. Soon enough my head was beginning to spin a little and I couldn't stop thinking about the double bed we were both sat on and would inevitably be sharing later that night. He noticed me eyeing it and gestured for me to move closer to him, draping an arm around my shoulders casually.

"You have an issue with intimacy, don't you, Amelia?" He drawled, not looking away from the tv.

"No." I answered- it wasn't a lie- I'd had intimate relationships with plenty of guys before, just none quite like this.

"Let me re-phrase that- you have an issue with intimacy with me." He turned to look at me slowly, black eyes flickering between my eyes and lips.

"I-" I didn't know how to answer. It was true enough, he reduced to a nervous wreck with as little as a kiss, or even prolonged eye-contact. I had never reacted physically so strongly to anyone, and the alcohol in my system didn't seem to be weighing in my favour on that front.

"I can see..."He murmured in a low voice, "Your hands are shaking, you're starting to sweat. All I did was ask you a question..." He chuckled softly, a cold smirk playing around his face.

"Why do you do that?" I asked him.

He paused, dark eyes regarding me.

"I learnt how to control the people around me when I was young. Ordinary people. So easily manipulated." The smile dropped from his face slightly, his eyes glazing over.

"When I was at school other children used to...bully me. I was clever, too clever for their tiny little minds to comprehend, so they would take it out on me. But as I got older I learnt how to counteract it. You remember the Carl Powers incident?"

I nodded- He had brought it up during the encounter at the pool-Jim had been 13 when he murdered the boy who used to bully him by poisoning his eczema cream, causing him to have a fit in the swimming pool and drown.

He went on, "Well as you'll understand I couldn't just kill everyone who was mean to me without drawing too much attention to myself, so I found other ways. I realised I could use sex as a weapon, if a boy was mean to me I would have sex with his girlfriend, and if a girl was mean to me..." He smirked despite himself, "Vice versa."

I felt my face flushing, I had been hanging onto his every word. I had never heard Jim talk about his past in such detail, and although I suspected the alcohol could have something to do with it, I was eager for every new detail.

"So..." I began.

"It was a distraction for a little while." He cut me off, "Seducing people became a new game, but soon I began to grow out of it. Until now of course."

I thought about what he had said- his obsessive interest in Sherlock Holmes had lead me to suspect he was not entirely straight- but in truth I had the feeling gender was seemingly irrelevant to Jim. He just saw people he could manipulate, potential pawns in his game, regardless if they were male or female.

"So what about Sherlock?" I blurted out.

I cringed away as soon as I had said it, I was feeling more and more dizzy but I knew asking personal questions was not a good route to go down.

Jim's face split into a wide smile.

"Sherlock is the best distraction of all. He's just so _perfect_. I have to destroy him. I have to. He is everything my life has been leading up to- the final problem."

His eyes were alive with that spark only mention of Sherlock seemed to ignite in him, and I couldn't help feeling a little jealous- that spark of interest he held for me was dim in comparison to the burning obsession he felt for the consulting detective.

"What's the final problem?" I asked him.

He sniggered. "The final problem. My dear, is it not what mankind have been aspiring to since the beginning of their existence? The final problem is cheating Death."


End file.
